SuperStuck
by taxonomyOverkill
Summary: Castiel has become God, but not even he can stop the mysterious meteors falling from the sky. Crowley has heard the voice of eldritch beings in his dreams advising him on what to do, but he must work with his enemies once more. So too must the foes Sam and Dean have faced work together. These two groups are going to play a game, and learn something about friendship, or die trying.
1. The Road So Far

Opening comment:

Since this is a fanfiction of Supernatural and Homestuck, you'll get pretty lost if you're not familiar with either. Homestuck is also very complicated-if you are not already a fan of it, then this story will probably just frustrate you. It might be fairly long too even though I tried to make it run fairly fast without sacrificing _too much_ character development. As for what to expect, this takes place after Season 6, borrows elements from Season 7, and otherwise rewrites S7E1 and goes from there. As for the homestuck details? I'll say that we will not be seeing major characters crossing over, or at least, not those from an alpha-timeline, or those who do not otherwise have multiple copies of themselves (such as Jack Noir and Lord English). I am not confirming Lord English either, btw. I hope this helps you decide if this story is right for you, and I hope you enjoy it!

Disclaimer? Don't own anything. Just arranged a bunch of words and concepts that don't belong to me. BAM.

THE ROAD SO FAR

It was once said by a demon who had adopted the nickname "Meg" that demons had begun to dream again, for the first time since who knows when, at the time that Lucifer was raised and walked the Earth once more. And it had been this moment in time when Crowley started to dream. And the strangest dreams he had. He always dreamt he was in a dark place. He always felt like he was half conscious, and that his eyes were closed. Then, he would hear whispers. They were spoken in a language that he had never encountered, but for some reason he understood them. The voices gave him warnings. The voices told him things that might come to pass. Other times, he had dreams of actual events. One of them was the Devil standing triumphantly atop a mountain of human corpses, with all his loyal demon servants bowing to him. Then, with the snap of his fingers, the light went out for every demon soul there, and their host bodies fell to the ground. Crowley had been amongst them. And in his dreams, the voices whispered about the Winchesters.

Crowley hadn't needed these dreams to make him suspect the fate of demon-kind. They were tortured human souls, after all. It only made sense that Lucifer would want to destroy them someday. And he figured that, the boys who had managed to start the apocalypse in the first place would be the ones capable of stopping it. They had a way of surviving the impossible. Crowley decided to aid them, and waited for them to find him.

The dreams continued. Crowley's ambitions grew as he began to have faith that the Winchesters could defeat Lucifer, that their mad plan with the horsemen's rings could seal his future. Crowley planned ahead, and with the whispers in his dreams aiding his plans for the future, he began to scheme his takeover of Hell... But he knew that even staying as the King of the Crossroads would make the Winchesters want to hunt him. Once the days became normal for all, so too would their drive to try and systematically wipe out demons and their leaders.

Crowley had kept Bobby Singer's soul as reassurance, as protection. Crowley began to suspect that he would need to keep a hold of that valuable soul a little while longer. Even if they beat Lucifer, Crowley decided it was best to keep a hold of Bobby's soul. The voices in his dreams told Crowley that, indeed, if he gave back Bobby's soul, it wouldn't change the fact the Winchesters would one day want to hunt him for just wanting to carry on the demon business of buying souls from the weak and foolish.

What the voices hadn't cautioned Crowley on was the possibility that the clever son of a bitch would find a way to get to his bones. Crowley himself would never have guessed that could happen. Crowley was good at seeing ahead the most fortuitous path, but not always best at seeing the bad... assuming the bad did not get him killed. So he began to work with his associate, the Winchester's pet angel, on a contingency plan to fool the Winchester's into believing that he was dead, should he ever need to use such a measure.

Meanwhile Crowley was well on the path to finding Purgatory. Keeping control of Hell required power, and Crowley knew that no matter what happened, the Winchester's would always feel compelled to hunt him. And angel-kind? Without Michael and a purpose they were all loose-cannons, every last bloody one of them. It only made sense to become a demi-god and become untouchable. Accomplishing this was the most fortuitous path. He was sure of it. He just needed to bide his time, manipulate the Winchesters when possible while evading them, keep control of Castiel, and eventually find Purgatory. Then everything would fall into place and every day thence would be rainbows and two-headed puppies.

But the voices had nothing to say on these matters. Crowley had to rely on his intuition and intelligence, but the dream voices had stopped talking to him. He was completely unprepared for the moment when Castiel turned against him. Once again, Crowley had been shocked to find himself up against a wall. He was so used to being able to use his silver tongue and sharp anger and harsh but reasonable wit to take control of anyone. He had to improvise, and in doing so he had made a critical mistake. He had let Castiel trick _him_.

Castiel was now God. Raphael was dead. The Winchesters? Who knows? He had no real affinity for them and they were an annoying thorn in his side. He did not care what became of them. All Crowley cared about was himself, his own hide. He made it a point to not underestimate the Winchesters as they could seemingly do anything, especially when underestimated. But he had underestimated Castiel. And that had been his downfall.

Then Crowley started to dream again.

Presently Crowley was sitting up in bed, rubbing his head. It was an unnecessary thing, sleeping. It allowed enemies openings. However, Crowley found dreaming to be rather addicting after he'd sampled it, and it was a great way to pass the time. He was not content with this last one. The voices had spoken to him again, but not before he had a vision of something terrifying. Earth, Heaven, and Hell, all up in smoke, craters littering every available landscape. The destruction was absolute, and still meteors rained from the sky. Then the dream transitioned back into that blackness, non-absolute with a twinge of red that reminded him of the back of his eyelids. The voices spoke, and they said, "The time is coming for you to serve your true purpose."

Crowley had felt a flicker of anger. Purpose? Crowley made his own purpose.

"We want you to join with the other heroes of your world and realize your full potential. Come to our aid and stop our mutual enemies, for we are dying, and you shall too."

Crowley didn't like this dream. He turned on the television and poured himself a glass of craig. He looked like trash sitting in the trailer. He felt like trash. The king of Hell living in a mobile home!

The voices have never spoken so directly about anything before. He wanted to think he was crazy and just dismiss them all as just faucets of his imagination and intuition, but as the thought about the 'heroes of this world' he was left to think of the Winchesters and Bobby Singer. Were the voices suggesting he join them in finding a way to stop Castiel? Surely not, that was madness. There was no way that could be the fortuitous path. Crowley was still mulling all this over when his television suddenly turned off.

"Hello Crowley," Castiel said. Crowley slowly looked over at him. "You look stressed."

The two of them had a short conversation, ending with Crowley accepting an offer to give Castiel souls from crossroads deals in exchange for Crowley's survival. The angel was becoming greedy. He was like a completely different person. These were definitely not good times to be a demon. Or to be anything. Apocalypse averted and it seemed like everyone involved in that was now in a world of drama. And it keeps happening.

It seemed like fate was conspiring against Crowley, forcing him to constantly be in a risky state, and always with the Winchesters. Next, they summoned him, and asked him to help them find a spell to bind Death so that they could use him against Castiel. It was stupid, but with the voices saying Crowley needed to join with the "heroes of his world" to serve some purpose, and this sudden surprising development, it seemed like he had no choice.

He had complied and delivered their spell, then went back to sleep. In his dreams, the voices once again whispered to Crowley. They told him to watch the skies, to watch the news, to watch the internet. To download a stupid video game when its beta was released.

And to save Castiel.

Awaking, the corners of Crowley's mouth drooped. "This all better be worth it, you stupid whispering know-it-alls." Crowley performed a little ritual to discover where Castiel was. Even though Castiel was now God, he still had enough angel in him to be detectable by certain means. It seemed that the Winchesters, of course, had failed to get Death to kill Castiel. No surprises there. Crowley was on his way and teleported to Castiel's location.

He found the angel in a sorry heap, lying huddled in a pool of blood. He was surrounded by corpses. They appeared to be in some senator's office. Crowley looked around and gave Castiel an icy glare. God appeared to be awake but stunned.

"Got a little carried away with the smiting did we?" he asked.

"I... I don't know what happened," said Castiel. He paused. Crowley remained stoic, but inside he felt a spark of amusement.

"It appears you've redecorated... boss." Crowley made a small bow of respect. Castiel didn't seem to take offense to the jab either way.

"I did this..." said Castiel. "I..." His face screwed up in pain and his gaze became glassy. His mouth twitched. Crowley frowned.

"Something wrong mate?" he asked. Suddenly something clicked. Castiel's vessel seemed to be eroding away. It looked like he was burning away, but since Crowley had seen a little bit of just about everything there was to see in Creation, he'd say that it looked a little bit more like Castiel was being digested. "No... You didn't."

Castiel looked up at Crowley.

"Did you bloody gobble up the leviathans?"

Castiel stared. He lurched forward a little bit.

Crowley felt a wave of anger and frustration wash over him. He shook his head and seethed. "Now see? This is why you should have left me in charge. With respect, God, but you're just a little bit new to this whole business of obtaining and using souls... And you went and BLOODY ATE THE OLDEST BEINGS OUTSIDE OF DEATH HIMSELF?!"

Crowley paused, looking at Castiel. He had spoken out of turn, but Castiel looked like he was in so much pain that there was no room for his stubborn pride. Crowley took a deep breath. "Cass... You do realize you're going to burst at this rate?"

"I'll be fine..." he said.

"No you as bloody hell won't," said Crowley. "It would be hard enough for an amateur like yourself to hold onto all the souls in Purgatory... but the leviathans as well? You wouldn't even be able to contain just them for long. You really bit off more than any damn idiot could possibly chew this time."

Castiel hung his head. Crowley smiled. "Seems like you got your just desserts mate, see what you get for trying to screw your business partner?"

"Hold your tongue," spat Castiel, rising to his feet. His stance faltered and he swayed. Crowley moved the table over to give Castiel something to brace himself on with the flick of his fingers.

"Cass... Be realistic. You need help. I can offer you that."

"I don't need your help," said Castiel.

"Oh? You don't need the help of the king of the crossroads and the king of Hell? The number one expert in soul exchanges?"

Castiel stared defiantly at Crowley, but the demon could sense that Castiel's resolve was weakening. Crowley smiled and took himself a seat, pushing the slain man who occupied it out of the way. Crowley crossed his legs. "Allow me to suggest a course of action. You're in no shape anymore to hold onto so many souls. Now if we'd caught this sooner you could have just given up the leviathans—you didn't need them to be God anyway. But you're going to have to give up all the souls Castiel. All of them. So here is what we'll do. We'll make... another deal, a proper one this time. You give me all the souls except for the leviathans; those souls will be put on loan and we'll share them fifty-fifty when you are back up to shape. In the meantime, we merely make a tank to contain the leviathans, reinforced with the power I'll get from all those souls, and with this tank we'll keep the leviathans held at bay until we can figure out a way to put them back into Purgatory where they belong."

"Do you take me for a fool?" Castiel said. "Do you really expect me to trust you with all those souls?"

Crowley smiled. "Well you know that a deal with a demon cannot be broken. Those are the rules."

"Like how you promised to give back Bobby Singer's soul and then didn't."

"Oh that? C'mon, the contract said I only had to make best efforts to return his soul... which for the record, meant that I could give it back just before he died and fulfill both ends of the bargain. That was my intention all along mate, I just kept that one detail away from Singer and the Winchester boys because I didn't want them getting in my way, but of course they figured out a way to coerce me into letting up my strangle-hold."

"Do you really expect me to believe that?"

Crowley blinked and then cupped his hands together. "No I suppose not. But that does not matter. You either let me help you, or you go up in smoke and the planet you worked so hard to rescue becomes leviathan chow."

Castiel looked conflicted and shuffled uncomfortably. "No. I need to learn my lesson. None of this would be happening if I hadn't taken your deal in the first place. The Winchesters... they'll help me. They'll think of something."

"Psssh, Cass, do you really think there is anything they can do about this?" Castiel stared at Crowley. Crowley stared back and raised his eye-brows in an 'Am a right?' fashion. Castiel's eyes darkened.

"No... No. I can handle this."

Crowley's anger flared. Was this angel really this dumb? "Excuse me?"

"You're right about one thing Crowley. I need to get rid of the leviathans. And maybe I need to give up some of these souls. But I am not accepting your deal."

"What the bloody hell are you talking about?" asked Crowley. "How are you even going to do all that without my help?"

"You'll find the souls in Hell," said Castiel. "Goodbye."

Castiel vanished. Crowley stared, dumbstruck. He blinked and lowered his head. "Bullocks."

Suddenly he heard the swoop of wings and looked up to see Castiel again. "It is done."

"What is done?" asked Crowley.

"I've deposited one fifth of the souls I captured into Hell. Like you said, the leviathans were the true threat, and I've put them somewhere safe."

"Safe? Don't be ridiculous, you might be an angel and you might be God but you don't have the know-how to keep buggers like that trapped. Where'd you even put the bastards?"

"The Sudbury Neutrino Observatory in Massachusetts," said Castiel. "It is a giant orb of isolated heavy-water. I released the leviathans into there and they have no way out."

"You've got to be joking."

"I am not. If you are so worried about them, why don't you go make sure they don't escape, demon." Castiel lowered his head and took a deep breath. "I will thank you for your advice. Your God appreciates it. I must rest now. Then, I will begin my work anew."

Castiel vanished. Crowley's face contorted with rage. The stupid prat was putting him on damage control for his mistakes. Crowley did not like it, but never-the-less went out and did as Castiel commanded. He went to Hell and isolated the monster souls Castiel had given him. He didn't need to quite "swallow" them, just place a spell on them that kept them that tethered them to Crowley, gradually siphoning power. He gathered a few supplies and went to this neutrino detector, bringing some demons along to possess the researchers there. He tried a few sigils painted onto the device itself to try and dampen the leviathan's power. Struggling against Castiel's vessel might have tired them out temporarily, but they would have easily busted out of this stupid giant ball of water before long anyway. Crowley was not convinced this would hold. Perhaps if he had the entire laboratory filled with cement?

"Keep an eye on this," said Crowley to his demon minions. "If it so much as leaks a drop, come get me."

Crowley left and conducted another ritual to find Castiel. This time his results were inconclusive. Castiel was probably using some sort of sigil work to hide himself. That or he was in Heaven. Crowley had no real access there himself, not unless someone made a deal with him to pull someone out of there, that is.

So then the question was, now what? What was there for Crowley to do? Keep an eye on the leviathans of course, but also to try and carry on business as usual. And figure out why on earth those voices wanted him to save Castiel. So Crowley went back to life as usual, two boring weeks passing while he kept an eye on the skies, the leviathans trapped in Sudbury, and waiting for Castiel to make an appearance. Once the Winchesters summoned him and asked him what was up. They apparently had some sort of plan to get Castiel to put all the souls and the leviathans back into Purgatory and had missed a deadline with Death to make it happen.

Crowley felt like an idiot. That would have solved everyone's problems, wouldn't it have? But for some reason he had been compelled to intervene and inadvertently messed everything all up. How could he have missed the most fortuitous path this time? And so badly?

"I don't know where Cass is gentlemen," explained Crowley. "But I've got the leviathan problem under control, and as far as I can tell, Castiel hasn't exploded yet, although if you want my opinion I think the dumb bastard _should_ be dead. I offered him a solution for all our problems and he shot me down."

"What you tell him?" asked Bobby.

"Oh nothing. Just that he give me half the souls as he was supposed to do in the first place. But your idea would have been good too, send the leviathans back to Purgatory. Wonderful idea, wish I had been in on that."

It suddenly occurred to him that their plan, which would have taken some time, might have been too long for Castiel. Castiel's immediate action after Crowley's intervention had lessened the pressure on his vessel, but he really was at the breaking point.

"You're joking," said Dean, glowering.

Crowley shrugged. The group was silent, when all of their attentions suddenly turned to something that peaked all of their interest, a news flash that had come on from a television that had been left on while they talked. Crowley's demonic nature had a way of disrupting electronics but since he had good control of himself, it hadn't shut off. The news was about a sudden catastrophe.

"-completely up in flames. The full damage has yet to be measured, but it is estimated that a fifth of New York City has been leveled in the meteor shower. Meteors have also struck cities and towns across America, and foreign news reports are saying that meteors have hit cities across the globe, including Paris, Moscow, Madrid—"

"Cass what the hell are you doing?!" Dean suddenly shouted.

"Bullocks." Crowley said, and then disappeared. As it had been assumed that he'd be helping the Winchesters again, he hadn't been bound by a Devil's Trap. He returned to one of his many lovely homes in New England and took to his computer. The voices had said to keep an eye on the internet. He'd forgotten to do that. He opened up his browser of choice, Cetus, and got to work. He first started infiltrating the servers of observatories to look for anything having to deal with the meteors. He thought that maybe Castiel had hearded a bunch of them together near Earth's orbit and was tossing them at the planet. But the telescopes were showing no sudden movement of space debris toward Earth, the meteors appeared to be appearing out of thin air on the upper edges of Earth's magnetosphere, before descending. Some high resolution scopes showed that they appeared with a flash of green light.

While this certainly looked like an act of God, something wasn't right about all this. It didn't quite seem like Cass's style. Castiel liked to flaunt off he was God before smiting someone or something. This was a little bit more mysterious.

Well, the voices also suggested Crowley keep an eye out for some stupid video game. So then he did a simple search for games released in the past month. Just this morning, an open beta was released for a game called Sburb, made by a small developer named Skaianet. The game was available for digital download for anyone who registered with their website. Crowley had six hundred and sixty six email accounts, and chose craigAristocrat . He registered and then set the game to download while he busied himself with researching the game to find out why the voices might have thought this game was so important.

He about spit up his drink when he read through a post about the game on gameFAQs. The first and only FAQ written thus far was claiming that a person playing the game had found he could alter his friend's house.

"Now I'm interested," said Crowley. He spent the next several hours going through message boards, image boards, IRC channels and livestreams reading what everyone else was saying about this game.


	2. Open Beta

OPEN BETA

Dean Winchester was outside Bobby's house, sitting on the hood of the repaired Impala. He was drinking a beer, but wasn't really paying any attention to it. His mind was buzzing with worry. His anger and hatred for Castiel mingled with pity for his fallen friend. Sam had tried talking to Dean already, but he had waved him off. He was not in the mood for a heart-to-heart this time, especially with his brother having trouble keeping his gourd together.

It had been two weeks since Castiel's disappearance. All attempts at finding and summoning him had failed, and other than the meteors falling down over the earth that were now all over the news, Dean hadn't seen any hint of Castiel's continued existence. Dean and Sam hadn't had much to do in the last two weeks, but just a few days after the incident with Death and Castiel, Sam had disappeared in the evening while Dean and Bobby weren't looking. Using Sam's GPS, Dean tracked Sam to a warehouse and found him with a gun, confused and hysterical. He wasn't sure if Dean was real, and was seeing a hallucination of Lucifer that had lead Sam to the warehouse.

Sam was better now, using the pain from the cut on his hand from Crowley's lab to drive off his hallucination. He'd been using the now-healed wound and its ugly scar to continue bringing himself back to reality. But Dean was still worried. His brother was now really truly crazy, Death's wall was gone, Castiel was gone... and between Sam having been soulless and now this, Dean felt helpless and angry. Years now all he had done was go through hell and back, literally even, to try and keep Sam safe and whole. Sam was now more busted up than ever.

This was all Castiel's fault. It was his fault for trying to bring Sam back in the first place, and his fault for bringing down Sam's wall. He wasn't sure which was worse, living with Sam this way, or knowing that if this hadn't all happened he'd be living with Lisa and Ben still, all the while Sam would be still going through the torture that the mere memory of shattered his poor brother's mind.

Dean threw his half-empty bottle; it exploded against the side of a dilapidated van.

"What the hell..." he growled and looked skyward. Where the hell was the real God in all this? They stopped the friggen' apocalypse and now it seemed like a new one was here. At least meteors would probably be less horrible than everything Lucifer had planned.

"Castiel, you royal son of a bitch," spat Dean. "Look what you did. You gave up everything to help save this planet and now look. How can you do this?"

"I'm not doing it."

Dean fell off the Impala and hit the ground. He peered up and blinked, unbelieving. Castiel was standing nearby. He looked like he was in better health, but the veins were standing out in his neck and his face was flushed. It seemed like he was using a great deal of concentration to keep his body under control, but other than that his body was healed and unmarred by the scars from before.

"Where the hell have you been?" asked Dean. Anger flared up inside him and he suppressed the urge to try and punch Castiel.

"I've been resting in Heaven," said Castiel. "I had a strange dream that I was in a golden tower. I think you were there too but you were asleep. I don't remember much. I only woke up a few hours ago."

Dean got to his feet and stared. "You're telling me that you're not behind this? The meteors?"

"No," said Castiel. "I've already tried to stop them. I can take them out but only a few at a time and only when they are close together. There are too many for me to deal with. I am also frankly offended that you would think I would do something like this. I am a just, fair God Dean. I want my children to love and worship me. How can I achieve my desire if I simply destroyed you all?"

Dean opened his mouth, but then shut it. He wanted to accuse Castiel of lying. Castiel had demonstrated the ability to lie already, but this didn't seem like something he'd lie about. He had no reason to, right? But that was a terrifying thought. No one else could be doing this. And if it wasn't Castiel, then who?

"Then what the hell is causing these meteors Cass? The leviathans?"

"No, the leviathans would have no way of causing destruction on such a massive scale," said Castiel.

"Well then I can't think of anything other than Death. Do you think Death is behind it?"

"No. I interrogated a reaper about it already and they said Death is not behind this."

The two stared at each other. Dean's anger mounted. "Castiel, why are you here?"

"I can't have you spreading rumors that God is behind this senseless destruction."

"Is that it? Really?"

"I sense you are frustrated."

Dean hit the side of the Impala. "Frustrated? I saved the world, the entire friggen' world, twice now. Once from Lucifer and Michael and their jacked apocalypse, and again from Eve. And what did I get out of it? A broken brother, a lost life with Lisa, and my best friend died and became God and I can't even have a conversation with you that doesn't make me want to tear your head off."

"Careful Dean, those words are—"

"You shut your cakehole, I'm so past being afraid of you," said Dean. "I don't even know if I have a future anymore. Or if any of us do. For all I know Death got tired of this planet and decided to just wipe us all out and didn't give the press release to his employees that they were going to be working overtime for the rest of humanity's existence. And it is all your fault, you selfish, stupid, untrusting, double-crossing sorry excuse of feathery-assed prick."

"And if I were to smite you now...?"

"Go ahead, I'm going to get hit by a meteor any day now," said Dean.

Castiel gave no reply, and then vanished. Dean waited, and then slammed his fist against the Impala once more, falling to the ground with his back against his cherished car. He seethed and gripped his hands tight.

"Cass... dammit Cass." Dean suddenly missed his friend. He missed him very badly.

Dean wasn't sure how much time passed but eventually Sam came back out and sat next to Dean.

"Hey, you feeling any better?" he asked.

"No I'm not feeling any better," said Dean contemptuously. "Guess who showed up?"

Sam took a serious expression. "Who?"

"Cass. He said he didn't want us spreading any rumors about him blowing up the planet, said he wasn't behind the meteors."

"Cass showed up?" gaped Sam. "What has he been doing this whole time?"

"Sleeping. And no he says he doesn't know what the deal with the meteors is, or who is behind it."

"Damn," sighed Sam. He went quiet for a moment. "Saw something else strange on the news."

"What?"

"Entire suburban homes have been disappearing. Always with a kid who lived there. Entire families are missing now. There is a big hole where the houses once stood but some of them weren't caused by meteors as far as anyone can tell. Although a lot of them get hit by meteors after the house disappeared."

Dean stared. "What? What the fuck could do that, and why?"

Sam shrugged. "I dunno... But I thought you'd like to know, just in case. I don't know. Maybe the two things are connected? Do you think some angry god or group of gods is doing this and taking families as a sort of sacrifice? Y'know, maybe this is something we should look into. Even if the disappearances aren't tied with the meteors, we could have one last, uh, one last hunt before the entire planet is pummeled into dust."

"That won't be necessary," a voice said, and the two brothers turned quickly to see Crowley walking towards them.

"What is it with you supernatural jackasses and surprising us like that?" snarled Dean.

"Relax, I come bearing fortunate news," said Crowley. "Well, and some bad news, but mostly good news."

"Spit it out," said Dean.

"Right, always to the point you are. Very well, the good news is that you two and I will be working together again, just like old times."

The brothers stared, then got to their feet. "After all the crap you pulled on us, how can you expect us to want to team up with you on anything?" asked Dean.

"Yeah, if you hadn't wanted to crack open Purgatory and bothered Castiel, none of the crap that happened to me or any of us this last year would have happened," said Sam.

"You're welcome," said Crowley. "I suppose I need to share the bad news to help make the good news sound more jovial and exciting. The bad news is we're now in the apocalypse round two, truly, and this time we won't be able to stop it. We just won't. There might not even be a planet left once this is all through."

"What?!" gasped Sam. Dean looked glum, but wasn't too surprised.

Crowley smiled. "Have you seen Castiel? I wanted to thank him personally for a few things."

"If you're thinking of trying to screw Castiel over and get revenge you can forget it," said Dean. "He's still powerful enough to completely nuke you Crowley."

"Quite. But not why I wanted to talk to him. But it isn't important. Just found out from some of my associates that the leviathans escaped and figured out a way into the waterworks and are now spreading out across America. Not that that will do them any good. We're all going up in smoke, well, those of us without a computer."

"What does a computer have to do with anything?" asked Sam.

Crowley pointed his finger at Sam and smiled. "Everything my friend. Been doing a little research, did a little poking around on the internet. I presume you've noticed that houses and their households are disappearing across the world?"

"Yeah?" said Sam.

"Want to know what they all have in common? They all played the same video game."

The brothers stared. "Video game?" said Dean. "So... So what, a cursed video game?"

"In a manner of speaking. Children all over the world are playing a video game called Sburb. At first, they think that it is just a simulation game, but when they play it with their friends, they discover that it is capable of literally changing the reality around them. Children growing attachments to their houses, moving things around each other's rooms, and deploying strange alien equipment fabricated from the game for use in the real world. And those who play it are talking about being pulled into another reality after performing a select list of small, menial tasks, then being given a quest to save an in-game world. The bad news is that it seems that our meteor problem is tied to this game. There is a meteor headed for the house of every single kid who is playing this game—plus a few more extra. Here's the kicker. At least three million kids were registered to download this game. That is a lot of meteors."

The Winchesters looked horrified, but then Dean laughed. "You've got to be kidding me. You really expect me to buy all of that?"

"Actually the game is free to play, and you blokes are going to be playing that game... with me."

"Like hell we are," said Dean. "Okay, so let's assume that what you are saying is true. Why the hell would we play a game that is supposed to end the world?"

"Well I don't know about that, but it seems safe to say that, yes, if at least one small group of kids play this game, it will destroy the world. But the good news is that everyone can play this game. All we need to do is get our friend Cass to notify the presses with some sort of message from God, perhaps by arranging the clouds, that tells everyone that their salvation can be found on . So, theoretically, most of the world population can be evacuated into separate sessions of this game by simply stuffing people onto the properties of every person who is going to run Sburb. And that is what we're all going to do. We're going to play the game, and get the hell out of here."

Dean laughed again and turned his back. "You're nuts if you think I'd do something like that with you Crowley."

"Yeah, it all sounds crazy, and that's coming from me, and I _am_ crazy," joked Sam, whose expression remained serious.

Crowley frowned. "Oh. You hurt my feelings. Well the funny thing is for you lot, well, you don't have a choice in the matter."

"Oh so now you're threatening us?" asked Dean.

"Not really, I don't have a choice either," said Crowley. "From what my research shows that when you play Sburb, or are going to play it, it engrains itself into your life in some fashion, helping to sort of... facilitate your doing so. I just discovered that I am, so to speak, already in the game, even though I haven't even started it up yet. And I already know for a fact that you two, Castiel, and drunky are all going to be joining me in gallivanting around inside a reality changing apocalypse arising adventure game. You don't have a choice because Sburb is not going to give you the choice. Now then. If you see Castiel, tell him he needs to see me. We've got a few problems that need resolving."

"Like what?" asked Sam.

"You let me worry about that. Just because we're destined to play this game doesn't mean we're destined to survive. A lot of the kids playing this game miraculously still have internet access wherever they're going in that game, but a lot of them are dropping out, disappearing. I think they're dying off. And I need to start maximizing our survival chances."

Crowley disappeared, leaving the two brothers with an unsettling taste in their mouths.

"The game is killing the kids who are playing it?" gasped Dean. "Then what the hell is the point of this game?"

"Do you think he was telling the truth?" asked Sam.

"No, no way," said Dean. He went quiet for a moment, and became increasingly worried. "Oh no."

"What?" asked Sam.

"Ben. He... He likes video games. Do you think he might...?"

Sam's expression harshened. "Dean. You walked out of their lives, remember? There's nothing you can do, not without freaking them out. They don't know who you are anymore, you can't just rush up to them and—"

"Yeah yeah I know..." Dean sighed. "Okay... I think I know of a way to find out without barging in on them. Can I use your laptop?"

"Why?"

"I just want to see if I can contact Ben and see what he's up to, I mean if I talk to him on the internet he doesn't have to know it's me right?"

Sam sighed and shook his head. "Fine... Fine... Just don't go loading it up with unnecessary crap."

Dean went inside the house and booted up Sam's laptop. It seemed like Sam was trying out a new browser called Yaldabaoth. Dean snorted; it sounded like something they would try and hunt. Dean knew Sam might get mad at him for downloading a program to his computer, but Dean needed to get Ben's messaging service. He downloaded it, made a username, and then booted pesterchum. He added Ben's username as he remembered it, and hoped that Ben was still using it. The good news is that he wouldn't need to be accepted first, he could just start messaging right away.

- awesomeChevy [AC] began pestering benthereDonethat [BD] -

AC: hey

AC: hey cmon where r u

BD: who is this?

AC: dont worry i just need to ask u something

BD: no i'm not gay, fuck off.

AC: what?

BD: i can tell you're a dumb troll because i don't know you.

AC: wat the f is a troll nvm. ben r u playing suburb?

BD: wtf how do you know my name? is this jeff? how the hell did you get my username?

AC: im not jeff.

BD: get a life jeff seriously. i'm surprised you even heard about sburb. what do you care? don't answer that btw. cuz i'm blocking you.

- benthereDonethat [BD] blocked awesomeChevy [AC] –-

Dean thumped the table with his thumb. That could have gone better. How the hell did he manage to screw that up so bad? At least he found out that Ben knew about Sburb. Which probably meant he was going to play it. Now what the hell should he do? Drive out there as fast as he can and try and stop Ben? Ben's house might get sucked into that other world before he even got there... assuming Crowley wasn't full of shit. Dean sighed. No, there was no way what Crowley was saying was true.

Swoop. Dean turned in his seat and saw Castiel standing behind him. "Hello Dean."

"Now what?" asked Dean.

"I am still your God, you should show me some respect," said Castiel.

"No," said Dean.

Castiel sighed. "You're a very exasperating little insect. And yet I still can't stop looking out for you. It would be simpler to just let you die, after all, you tried to have Death kill me. Never-the-less, I came here to inform you that the meteors are starting to fall in greater numbers. You should probably go someplace pleasant and pray."

"Pray, seriously Cass?" scoffed Dean. "You told me there is nothing you can do and you want me to pray?"

Castiel looked like this was beyond simple. "Well of course. You'd be praying for the salvation of your soul."

Dean smiled and laughed. "Yeah well no thanks. It doesn't sound like there's any place left in creation that is a good place to go."

"There is sanctuary for you Dean, in Heaven. I'll see to it you are well cared for, just pray to me, your God, and ask for forgiveness."

Dean felt like punching Castiel, but he didn't want to break his fingers that badly. "Stop laying it on so thick Castiel. I'm not giving into your stupid role play. Go play God somewhere else."

"Are you angry with me because I have so far been unable to repel the meteors?" asked Castiel.

Dean hadn't really thought about it, but, "Yeah, I guess I am. Because you wanted to replace your dad so badly but now the world is about to end because of a friggen' video game and you're powerless to stop it."

"I am not powerless, just... outnumbered. I would easily be able to repel the meteors if I could be in more places at once," said Castiel. "That is not my fault. It is the fault of mankind for making such a video game in the first place."

"What?! You think we could even make a game like that? No way man! Actually that's a very good question, why don't you go find out where this game came from? Huh?"

"I already tried," said Castiel. "The mansion where this... Skaianet is located is empty except for a computer showing where all the meteors are going to touch-down."

Dean blinked. "Seriously? Some magic computer is showing where all the meteors are going to hit? How can you not stop the meteors then man you're God now! Can't you go back in time a few seconds at a time and—"

"Dean, stop," said Castiel. "I am starting to become a little angry with your criticism of me. The entire computer shows that every single inch of this planet is going to be bombarded with meteors consecutive times. The meteors are going to start out small... and get progressively larger. There is no hope for humanity now. I see now, as God, how foolish it was of me to think that free will could truly hold out against this planet's desire for self-destruction. But in destruction, human-kind will know peace in Heaven. And then I will find a way to bring all the escapists back to this reality and punish them for rejecting me in favor of this... game."

Dean shook his head. "Dammit Cass... Just dammit. Listen to yourself, for a single second, please. Look, never mind. You're supposed to be God. Can you really forgive yourself if you let some meteors beat you? You can't really call yourself God if you can't stop a little meteor shower."

Castiel looked thoughtful. "I guess you are right." He paused then looked at Dean. "I... um. I suppose what you say is the truth. But I'm going to prove myself as God to you. Then perhaps you will learn to love and worship me."

Castiel vanished once more. Dean swore and got back onto the computer. There was no way he could let Castiel get a hold of Ben and Lisa's souls. If they could really enter that game world, would they possibly be safe if Ben can play that stupid game well? How does the game even work? He'd have to ask Crowley.

A few hours passed. Sam and Dean brought up Sburb with Bobby, but Bobby scoffed it off and thought it had to be complete nonsense. "We still don't know anything about those leviathan creatures. They must be the ones behind it. You heard Death; they're the Great Old Ones. Surely they know a few nasty tricks."

* * *

Leviathans did know some nasty tricks. Even now the leviathans were spreading out across American, infected important people. The leviathan king that would come to be known by the man he copied, Dick Roman, had found his home as the corporate shark, and was learning a thing or two about Sburb. But he was still a step behind Castiel and Crowley.

Castiel arrived back at the dark, huge lab space where the computer was, deep in the Skaianet building. He looked over the meteors and saw that a particularly large one was heading for South Dakota now. It was a few miles away from where Sam and Dean were. Castiel did not think it would hurt them, but it would give him a great opportunity to prove to Dean that he was God. It would not arrive for a day now, however. He took a deep breath. Perhaps he should start trying to destroy some of the other meteors raining down on the world for the time being.

"I see you found this place too," said a voice. Castiel turned to see Crowley walking towards him.

"Crowley," said Castiel. "What are you doing here?"

"I tracked the distributing website to this place and decided to make myself at home," said Crowley. "The large house topside is really quite lovely. It is also very convenient that everyone living here has disappeared. And I don't mean anything by that; I really have no idea where everyone has gone. My guess is that after they set up the servers they all drove off and escaped into Sburb in their cars instead of their houses."

"And your point is?" asked Castiel.

"My point." Crowley said and nodded. "Let me get to the point. Cass. You're in way over your head on this one. There are enough meteors from one session of Sburb to practically wipe out humanity. And millions of kids are playing this game. Now, let me show you something."

Crowley walked over to the computer and started inputting instructions. "As you can see, I can restrict the monitor to only display imminent impacts of certain sizes if I so choose." A bunch of extremely large blue dots now covered the map of the world on the monitor. "As you can see, roughly four hundred meteors half the size of Pluto are going to strike the earth. Keeping in mind that even just one of them hitting solid land would be enough to wipe out the dinosaurs all over again. Now... Let me show you what happens when I input a new coordinate command."

Crowley typed in a string of numbers using alt codes to form Enochian sigils... and then a map of Heaven, or as best as can be displayed on a 2 dimensional screen, appeared. And it was covered in large blue dots. Crowley adjusted the controls to allow all meteors to be displayed. All the meteors were imminent, none had hit yet, but there were countless meteors destined to strike Heaven. And then Crowley inputted a new coordinate, and it showed Hell. Even Lucifer's cage was going to be hit, and hard.

Castiel stared in horror. "How is this possible. Can a simple computer game really do all of this?"

"I don't know," said Crowley. "I don't think it really _is_ a game. And if it is, it was made by much higher beings than us, higher than anything we can comprehend presently."

"No... no that isn't possible."

"Kind of makes you feel tiny and insignificant doesn't it?" said Crowley. "You know, I always wondered what on Earth Death was. Really. Yeah he was a horseman, but he predates his brothers by aeons. Can't get a hold of the guy right now, but I'd almost be willing to believe that whatever creature he really is, is from outside our reality entirely, maybe he might know more about who and what managed to make this blasted thing. It really is a marvel, composed of programming languages capable of interacting with reality itself. And all parts of a single reality. It seems like Earth, Heaven and Hell are about to be remodeled."

Crowley turned and leaned against the computer. "And Lucifer and Michael are going to join the party."

Castiel's eyes trembled and he stumbled back. "No... No..."

"'Fraid so," said Crowley. "Not even their cage is strong enough to take a few meteors that size hitting them directly exactly where the cage physically rests in Hell. And when they get out? We'd better be gone my friend."

"How?" asked Castiel.

"Oh simple. We play the game. It is our ticket out of here. The game destroys the planet, yes, but it also lets everyone who can get to a computer or pack themselves in on the property of someone playing the game to escape. And that is exactly what we're going to do my friend. We're going to escape. Because you're not God. And this is bigger than fate. If this was fate, we'd have had some sort of warning, and gotten something more sensible. But this is a bloody video game that rains meteors down on the whole bloody planet and it is from outside our reality and all our prophecies. To use some of the phrases you and your friends have used, this game has 'torn up the script and burned the pages.'" Crowley smiled.

"No. No this is wrong, this is all wrong," said Castiel, pacing. "There has to be something I can do."

"There isn't. Now then, we've got very little time to work with. We need to get bloody out of here, but we need to make sure we do it right. I've seen enough kids die already by monitoring their chats on the internet and have learned a lot about what we need to do. Castiel, I need you to work with me."

Castiel didn't say anything.

Crowley sighed. "Well. For the time being let's take that as a yes shall we? Now, down to an important business. We need to figure out how many players are in our session."

"What do you mean?" asked Castiel.

"We all need to connect to each other with computers in a sort of daisy chain," said Crowley. "However, the funniest thing about Sburb is that it knows how many are going to be in a group before they even get started. Not only does this game rip up the script, it writes a new one in blood, on metal pages bound in a titanium sleeve—protected by the most powerful magical sigils one can find; the point is, destiny is back on the table, and every kid playing this game that has attempted to get off the script winds up dead. There's an exact number of players that is going to be in our session. I want to find out that number, and who they are. And you might be able to help."

"How can I possibly help?" asked Castiel.

"Every session has one player who has a valuable skill... they are self-aware when they go to sleep. It might be you."

"Pardon?"

Crowley frowned. "This is going to take some explaining isn't it?"

* * *

Dean kept opening pesterchum and closing it. He wanted to try and talk to Ben, but now that he was blocked he wasn't sure how to get into contact with him. He hated not knowing what was going on.

More news reports about meteors falling. There were entire stations that were off the air now. The nation was now in a high state of emergency. Riots were starting. The whole world was getting ready to lose its mind. All because of a game. It was like whatever fixation the world had on ending realized that the Winchesters could stop anything supernatural, so it sent something completely and totally messed up to finish the job.

Dean had had several glasses of whiskey already. He was feeling pretty drunk, but he still felt like driving. A big part of him wanted to say goodbye to Sam and Bobby and then take the Impala out to Greenville, Illinois... He wanted to visit Mary's grave, erected there by a relative he didn't know. Now that he had it on his mind, it seemed strange to him that, after having met his mother consecutively in the timeline, he had not bothered to visit her grave. He had shied away from it the first opportunity, but another opportunity never really came up.

Trying to ice Lucifer, it had seemed impossible, but in the end he was able to at least trap him. But even when he didn't know what to do, well, he had a clear target that had the semblance of being beatable. Lucifer was a creature. Thousands of meteors hitting the ground and blasting it with the power of TNT was a whole 'nother world of impossible. There was nothing to do. Nothing but try and get the few things done that he should have already done.

Should he even say goodbye to Sam and Bobby? It would be so hard having to wait for their mutual destruction while just sitting together. He'd feel pathetic. Plus, Dean was drunk, and that went a long way to making him stop caring. Dean checked his pocket for the keys and then headed out, taking Sam's laptop and charger with him. He got into the Impala and drove off. Bobby had been reading with Sam, trying to find any indication of this game or meteors with the apocalypse, perhaps as a sort of overlooked part two contingency. They were having no such luck, and when they heard the loud motor of the Impala, they just thought that Dean was going to be right back.

Dean was not. Instead he drove, drunk and angry for a nine hour ride to Greenville, arriving well past midnight. He ignored calls.

* * *

By dusk Sam and Bobby knew that Dean was missing. Sam was worried and upset. Bobby tried to console Sam and suggest that Dean just needed some time alone after having to see Cass again. Sam understood, but was still worried, and angry. Dean went off without telling anyone, and for all they knew he could have gotten hit by a meteor. Where the hell was he? He wasn't answering his phone.

"You know if you were Soulless Sam you wouldn't be having these difficult feelings," said Lucifer.

Sam ignored him and pressed his scar. The sharp pain helped him ground reality, and bury Lucifer beneath it. Sitting in Bobby's living room on the couch, Sam wondered if he should activate Dean's GPS like Dean keeps doing with him. That was rather difficult given that he did not have his laptop anymore. Sam got up and went to the kitchen, where Bobby was taking calls from worried hunters, some of which were saying final goodbyes as they believed they were soon to perish. Sam waited for him to finish.

"Hey Bobby, you have a spare laptop I can borrow?"

"Yeah, there's about two of them I picked up at one point down in the basement. One of them's kind of busted and the other is a piece of crap, but it works. I don't remember which one's which."

"Thanks Bobby," said Sam. He went downstairs and found the two laptops and tried them out. Thankfully Bobby had the power cord for the one that still worked. He went back upstairs and then called Dean's cell company while hopping onto the internet to start tracking his GPS. He also switched the browser from IE to Yaldabaoth, which was a nice, anonymous browser. He activated the GPS and found that Dean was just crossing the Kansas border on I-29 toward Kansas City. Why was he going to Kansas?

"Wait... is he going to Lawrence?" Did he, for some reason, want to go back to where it all started just before the end of the world? It sounded a little unlike Dean. Sam clapped his hands against his lap and grunted. "Dammit Dean..."

He closed up the laptop and began to pack a bag. He started for upstairs to grab some clothes when Bobby walked in on him in the foyer.

"And where do you think yer going?" asked Bobby.

Sam sighed. "I'm sorry Bobby, but I gotta go find Dean. He's going to Lawrence."

"Lawrence? Whatever for?"

"I don't know."

"And you're going to go chase after him?"

"Yeah."

"And leave me here to die all by myself?"

Sam averted his eyes. "Sorry."

Bobby sighed. "Eh don't worry I was just belly-achin'. You do what you've gotta do. If we're all going to die, you two need to do it together. Just... if you find him, get yer asses back here... I need some drinking buddies before my house goes up in flames."

Sam nodded. "Yeah. Yeah we'll do that. Thanks Bobby."

"I suppose you'll be needing a vehicle. Go ahead and take the truck out on the left."

"Thanks." Sam went upstairs and finished packing. He also grabbed a can of peas to snack on from the pantry and was heading out when Bobby stopped him again.

"Kid, make sure you come back, alright? I mean it."

"I plan to," said Sam.

Bobby nodded. "We have all done a lot together. It seems kind of cheap for one of us to go out alone because of some space rock."

Sam gave Bobby a short goodbye hug and then went out. He got into the truck, set the visor against the sun, and then pulled out of Singer Scrap, off on the system of roads that would take him to Kansas.

Sam drove for four hours. It was getting close to midnight by the time he was driving through Kansas City himself. He stopped there to check his laptop using the Wi-Fi in a coffee house, getting himself a red-eye to keep him awake. The GPS said that Dean was not going to Lawrence, but was traveling East on I-40. Greenville was that way... where Mom's grave was.

"So that's what you're up to?" Sam said while sipping his coffee. "What the hell Dean? After all this time?"

Sam then caught a news flash from a television along the store's corner. A wildfire East of Kansas City was now raging out of control. The authorities were shutting down I-40.

"No..." Sam gasped and stood up, watching the report. "No, no no no no no. I need to take the interstate...!" He groaned out. Now what? Detour of course.

"Sam, you look tired," laughed Lucifer. "Forget about Deaaan. Go get yourself a motel and rest up. Hey, maybe the fire will be under control in a few hours and you can continue on after you catch some Z's." Sam kept his eye away from the phantom, but he could almost swear that he could feel Lucifer's breath on his neck. "Of course, maybe the fire will reach Kansas City and burn it to the ground, with you in your bed. But then again burning alive should be second nature to you by now shouldn't it Sam?"

Sam squeezed his palm and finished his coffee. He checked for detours, but with the meteors falling in the wilderness, authorities were making announcements to close down roads surrounding Kansas City anyway, making detours almost impossible—any that he could think up, even those that would add six or ten hours to his drive-time, might be closed off by the time he was on his way.

Sam was frustrated, but couldn't see another option. He did get a motel room, in a cheap place that, at the least, had Wi-Fi, so he could use this laptop if he needed to.

* * *

Shortly thereafter, but before Dean reached Greenville, he discovered that his GPS was active. He didn't want Sam following him. They would argue, and Dean just wanted to be alone. So he threw the phone out the window. Dying together was one thing when they were facing down some supernatural threat that they had a fighting chance against. Sudden inexplicable meteors...? No, Dean just wanted to be left alone, and who knows? Maybe he'd still be alive to go back to Bobby's tomorrow. That would be fine with him, just as long as Dean had time to make a little bit of peace he'd been neglecting for a while.

Dean also wanted to try and keep an eye on Ben, but that was hard without an internet connection. Dean decided he was going to check with Ben after he reached the cemetery. He decided to solve two problems at once and stopped by a cell-phone store, getting a smart phone that he was sure he wouldn't have to pay its next bill for. The phone had hotspot capability, which would come in handy. Now he had a phone that Sam couldn't track—he'd let everyone know he was okay after he had spent a few hours at the graveyard.

Two hours later Dean finally arrived in Greenville and headed for the cemetery. He used some bolt cutters to get passed the gate and drove to the plot where Mary's headstone had been placed. He loitered in his vehicle. He felt nervous for some reason. He messed with his phone for a few moments and reminisced about Mary as he remembered her as a kid, and the young woman he met when traveling through time. Finally he got the courage to exit the Impala and trek to her grave.

Dean sat down. He read over her name and the span of her life several times. Another good thing about Sam not being here was that if Dean started to cry, he wouldn't be seen. It didn't matter though. He felt more at peace now that he was sitting here in front of it, calmer. After a while, he even started to smile.

* * *

"So what did you see?" asked Crowley.

Castiel rose from the bed. The two of them had gone to the house adjacent to the Skaianet laboratory and there Crowley put Castiel to bed. The angel was blinking and trying to remember what he had seen.

"I remember... the golden towers that I had dreamt about before. I was clad in a long golden gown with a half-moon symbol upon my chest. I was capable of flight without the use of magic otherwise known to me. Outside my tower there were three other gold towers like it. I remember that I'd seen Dean in one. The other towers contained sleeping versions of Sam and Bobby, also clad in gold. I also remember seeing a giant, beautiful blue orb covered in clouds hovering overhead, and on the horizon was a large golden city on a small planet tethered to the smaller moon that held our towers."

Crowley nodded. "Well that does not tell me too much then. I already knew those blokes would be participating."

"And you believe that you're a... Derse dreamer?"

"Yes. Some of the kiddies on the internet have mentioned that some of them have dreams on Derse's moon, and are whispered to by unseen monsters from a dark void outside their game's Incipisphere."

"So what was I trying to do again?" asked Castiel.

"Simple. Find out who our other three players are. My own whispering monstrosities suggested that we are still lacking an important player—a Hero of Time. Whatever that bloody means. They insisted that it would be a friend of yours."

"A friend of mine?" asked Castiel.

"Yes. Someone very good with time I'd surmise."

Castiel's face fell. "I... I think I might know who that is. Or was."

Crowley's face fell as well. "Pardon?"

"Angels have adept mastery over time and space. So it would make sense that our Hero of Time would be an angel. Balthazar was particularly skilled with doing this. He even once went back in time to stop the Titanic and help generate thousands of new souls."

"You and your souls, jeez, I'm a demon and even I don't obsess over it as much as you," scoffed Crowley.

Castiel glared. "But Balthazar is dead now. So it cannot be him."

"Well, the monsters in deep space whisper to me that we cannot begin playing yet because we don't have all our players yet. So it seems to me that this whole death thing is exactly the kind of problem that we need to fix if we're going to get out of here. We try and bend the rules and we'll be the ones to snap."

"How am I supposed to bring Balthazar back to life?"

"You're God, you figure it out!" said Crowley.

Castiel nodded. "I guess you are right. But... I killed him. What am I going to say to him when I raise him?"

"I don't bloody care if you hug him or bend him over," said Crowley. "Just go get your dead friend so we can play this sodding game together."

Castiel sighed and teleported off. He went to the place he had killed Balthazar. It had been in Crowley's lab. The body had been moved to another room, and here in this room Castiel found a rotting corpse—the vessel of Balthazar. Castiel clicked his fingers together, focusing his energies. Nothing. Each time Castiel had been raised, it had been immediate, and with his vessel intact. What was wrong this time? Had too much time passed? He tried again. Nothing.

"I don't understand..." Castiel felt a flicker of horror. All those souls, and he truly couldn't compete with God. He was no God. He'd killed Raphael and achieved only that. Dean and Sam hated him now, and Balthazar was dead, and there was nothing he could do about it.

He began to pace, his stoicism falling as he rubbed his face. "What do I do now?" he growled. "What do I do?"

Castiel sat there in the dark with the corpse for many hours. He'd reminisced about a lot of things, the good and the bad, his friends and how they all betrayed one another. War was a complicated, terrible thing. But then he realized something. Castiel may have all those souls, but ever since he took them, he'd been acting different, and had been clumsier with his abilities. It was harder to teleport. Yes, he should be able to stop all the meteors himself. Space normally bends so easily for an angel, and Castiel was good at it. But since taking on all these souls, it was like he'd obtained raw power, but now lacked something else. There was little he'd actually done that was god-like except for two things—kill Raphael, and survive an angel blade to the spine.

His face trembled. "They were right... I should have given up the power the second I stopped Raphael. I lost sight of my goal. And I'm less useful than ever. Balthazar cannot be raised. But if he is to be our Hero of Time..." Castiel looked over at the corpse. He had a sense of déjà vu. "Then perhaps time is the answer."

There was a swooping sound. Castiel sensed something behind him, and then slowly turned his head. Standing before him was Balthazar. "Finally figured it out huh?" He smiled jovially. He was holding a coconut in his hand, the smell of some alcoholic beverage wafting from a cut in the top.

"Balthazar..." Castiel gasped with ambivalence. "It is... good to see you."

"Considering...?" Balthazar said, tilting his head and looking confused.

Castiel hung his head.

"Right... well, let's consider it water under the bridge Cass. After all, it wasn't the first time I faked my death, and you did kind of... lose all your marbles, but if you've got them all back, I'll be happy to put a little twist tie on the bag to keep them all set inside... I've got a little red one if you like."

He held up a twist tie. Castiel stared at it and frowned. Balthazar's sense of humor was tiresome, but then Castiel smiled. Being around humans had been contagious for both of them, and Castiel felt a surge of emotions that relaxed him.

"I would like that," he said.

"Now, Cass, you've got a little job to do," said Balthazar. "We can all catch up after you go back in time and tell me what an idiot you've been and that I need to fake my death for you again."

Castiel turned his head at the corpse. "It was a very convincing act."

"Yes it was. It was a golem I switched out with just before you swooped in behind me to stab me in the back. The meat is in fact pig meat."

Balthazar smiled and walked over to the corpse, picking off a piece of flesh and smelling it. "A little age puts a little flavor in don't you think?"

Castiel felt a little disgusted. "Where and when will be best to inform you of what is to come?"

"Oh... why not Versailles, June 28 1919... And please excuse President Wilson. He can be a little intense and is a bit of a hypochondriac. See you then, and when you get back."

Castiel nodded and vanished. Balthazar took a sip of his drink. Castiel reappeared. He had smudges on his face.

"That... let's please never speak of that again."

"It wasn't all that bad was it?" asked Balthazar.

"I was just there."

"Well I still remember it plain as day, and I'm telling you, it wasn't all that bad."

"Please, let's just..."

"Alright Cass, alright. Now then, fill me in on this game. I'm dying to know more."

* * *

Dean was sitting in the Impala, his smartphone acting as a hotpot for Sam's laptop. He was browsing the internet. He'd replaced Sam's old browser with an updated version. The new browser was Abraxas. He'd made an alternate handle for pesterchum to contact Ben with, called pieLover. Ben had blocked it almost straight away, but had let slip that he'd been sucked into that Sburb game.

Dean's blood roiled. Ben and Lisa were out of one frying pan and into another. He still worried, but now he knew that he'd never see them again, and it ached. Sure, he'd resigned himself to this already, but knowing that it was now physically impossible to do so was a strange feeling. All because of some weird game.

Maybe Crowley was right and they should just play this stupid game together. Maybe it would be better than dying. Either way, Dean decided it was time to let everyone know he was okay. He added them to his contacts and sent a text to Sam and Bobby that he was okay, and was visiting Mary's grave. He got a reply right away from Bobby. It had a lot of swearing in it. Dean smiled. Thirty minutes later he got one from Sam.

[Hey. Dean youre a real prick, taking off like that. Im in Kansas City. Im stuck here. There is a wildfire between here and Greenville. I cant get to you.]

Dean sent a reply telling him not to worry about it. They'd meet up, he promised. Then, another thirty minutes later, he got another reply. It was in the form of a phone call. Dean picked up.

"Sam."

"Dean." Sam sighed over the phone. "Hey. Cass and Crowley just showed up together."

"Cass...? Cass _and Crowley_?"

"Yeah. They're saying we need to play that game. The meteors are about to get a lot worse. Cass is going to use start making some appearances on television and advertise the game to get as many people to evacuate the Earth as possible."

"This is crazy..." Dean said and slapped his hand against the steering wheel."

"Yeah, you're telling me. So they're saying we need to play this game to get out of here."

"Yeah I was thinking the same thing," said Dean. "I don't like it, but I guess it beats dying... Ben and Lisa already entered the game too. Ben said so."

"You got a hold of Ben?"

"Yeah sort of. He keeps thinking I'm someone named Jeff that bothers him at school. He blocked me on pesterchum."

"You downloaded pesterchum to my computer?" Sam said loudly. "Dean you said you wouldn't put any crap on my computer."

"Oh c'mon I needed it, and it isn't all that crappy."

"Dean pesterchum is full of adware! It is almost as bad as MSN."

"Yeah whatever. So how do we play this game anyway?"

"Right. Can you get somewhere with Wi-Fi?"

"Uh yeah about that. I got myself a smart phone with an internet hot spot. Dude, these things are actually kind of cool."

"You got a smart phone?" Sam said in shock. It was both atypical of Dean and also so expensive as to offend Sam's sense of practicality.

"Hey the end of the world man, who gives a damn?" said Dean. "Yeah I'm online."

"Okay type this into the search bar. Skaianet. Sign up and download the client and the server applications. Then, run the client."

"Um okay. Uh Sam my hotspot turns off while I'm on the phone. Can you just swallow your pride and get pesterchum so we can keep in touch while I go do this?"

Sam sighed. "Fine... I think Pesterchum Enamel came out a few weeks ago anyway."

"What is that?"

"It's basically pesterchum but shinier," said Sam with a bit of a sneer to his voice.

"Right, well, do that."

"Hey what is your username?"

"It's uh, awesome Chevy."

Sam snickered over the phone. "Alright."

Dean hung up and signed up with Skaianet. The number of users on the sites online user ticker was skyrocketing. It was amazing the website hadn't crashed yet. Dean downloaded the programs. They finished surprisingly quickly given he was getting internet from his phone. Dean thought the game files would be huge, but they were really small.

Dean wasn't sure if that made him feel better of that worried him more. A magical computer program with a small file size...

A little light began to flicker on his task bar. Someone was pestering him.

- deductiveCryptozoologist [DC] began pestering awesomeChevy [AC] –-

DC: Hey.

AC: ther u r. k i hav the files. now wat.

DC: Right. Crowley said we need to connect to one another in a kind of daisy chain, so we're starting with you. I'm going to run the server application, and you run the client one.

AC: on it

DC: Dean?

AC: it sez waiting 4 server 2 estalbish conection. wat the fuck is this? its just some black screen. this really destroyd the world?

DC: I don't know. Okay, let's just take this one step at a time. How do I connect with you?

AC: how would i kno

DC: Okay never mind I figured it out.

Dean's Sburb window showed that he'd been connected to somehow. It was asking for him to hit enter. He pushed the button and big green letters popped up saying Sburb.

DC: Holy crap I can see you.

AC: wat?

DC: You're sitting in the Impala. Is that a pie next to you?

AC: yeah?

DC: Nothing. Okay. So I've got a bunch of options here. Hold on while I mess with them.

Dean suddenly jumped as his pie began to levitate. There was a faint green something like an arrow superimposed over it, hardly noticeable.

AC: holy crap is that u?

DC: Yeah. It seems I can move things around. Are you really seeing this?

AC: yeah

DC: This is trippy. Okay hold on.

The pie was gently set back down. The cursor approached Dean. He backed away from it and felt it touch him, but the cursor flashed red and then it retracted from his personal space.

DC: Okay I can't seem to select you. I hope that does not end up being a problem. I can't seem to select anything too far away from you either, like this tree.

AC: wat tree

DC: Don't worry about it.

DC: I'm going to try "revise" now.

Sam selected a space around the back of the Impala and then expanded the highlighted area out back from the car, and let go. Suddenly, the Impala grew an additional back seat, with the trunk pushing out backwards.

AC: SAM WTF DID U JUST DO WHY IS MY CAR A LIMO

DC: Sorry Dean I didn't know it would do that!

AC: SAMMY IM GOING 2 KILL U MY CAR IS A LIMO

DC: Dean I'm sorry

AC: A LIMO SAM. SAM U BETTR UNLIMO MY CAR RIGHT NOW

DC: I don't think I can do that.

AC: U BETTR IM GOING 2 KICK UR ASS

DC: Okay okay hold on!

Sam highlighted the front of the car, right clicked, copied, and pasted next to Dean's Impala. It created a replica of the Impala, or at least half of it. Sam saw Dean freaking out in his car, getting out and examining the half-an-Impala sitting beside him. He looked pissed. Sam squirmed uncomfortably. The idea of millions of kids doing similar things to each other's houses disturbed him. But how does he get Dean to teleport out of this world? He examined the other options, including build grist. He then highlighted the back section of the Impala, copied, and pasted onto the other Impala, and created a whole of the original. He was now down to 12 "Build Grist". The Impala seemed to assemble itself nicely.

DC: Okay I think I'm getting the hang of this. I can expand the dimensions of the Impala. It is not a house, but it kind of was our house for most of our lives so I guess it is willing to count in this case. Messing with your car costs something called build grist. I'm running out.

AC: okay the new impala looks ok. all the axels r on right at least. if u can make a hole impala then i guess this game is ok. can u make more pie?

DC: No I can only select it. Wait. Hold on one moment.

AC: wat

DC: I think it is Crowley. Hold on I'm inviting him to the chat.

AC: no f u dont

- deductiveCryptozoologist [DC] added craigAristocrat [CA] -

- craigAristocrat [CA] began jeering awesomeChevy [AC] -

CA: Well well well look at you boys. Just can't keep your hands off Dean can you Sam?

AC: oh god damnit croly shut the fuck up

CA: Oh dear. Dean, you type like a thirteen year old.

AC: FU crol

DC: What did you need Crowley?

CA: You two should install this plug-in with your copies of Sburb. Here. downloads/plugins/1800-0413/captchaloguesplgdwup=0

CA: Install that you twats. You're going to need it.

DC: What are you busy doing right now Crowley.

CA: You let me worry about that. Cass and I are not ready. We're still getting the other players.

AC: wat othr playrs

CA: They're not ready yet. You just get inside the game.

AC: how

CA: Ugh. Moose, here is what you do. Phernalia Registry. Cruxtruder. Deploy that.

DC: I used up 8 grist already though.

CA: You what? Damn you, keep a tighter hold of your sticky cursor. Actually I'm just kidding. That does not matter. You can deploy everything in the Phernalia Registry for free-well not everything, but everything you see there currently is yours.

CA: Now, Cruxtruder, pre-punched card, totem-lathe, Alchemiter, in that order. Don't put them some place stupid. I've got to go now.

DC: Wait, Crowley, what do we do with all this stuff?

CA: I can see your pre-law college education served you well. Figure it out you sodding behemoth.

- craigAristocrat [CA] ceased jeering awesomeChevy [AC] and deductiveCryptozoologist [DC] -

Sam sighed and installed the plug-in. Dean did as well. Suddenly a new item was added to the Phernalia Registry. It was called the sylladex. He selected it and brought out something that looked like a small iPad and dropped it next to Dean. He picked it up and examined it. Also in the Phernalia Registry were several cards, called Fetch Modii. All but one cost Grist, the free one being a Stack Modus, and came with 5 complimentary captchalogue cards. Sam deployed it on top of the sylladex, and the two items combined, switching the color of the sylladex to magenta.

Sam had absolutely no idea what he just did.

- deductiveCryptozoologist [DC] began pestering awesomeChevy [AC] -

DC: What is that thing?

AC: no clue

DC: I guess just hold onto it for now.

Sam deployed the Cruxtruder. Dean jumped noticeably when the device appeared out of thin air and was dropped near the car. It was a large, vaguely chimney shaped machine with a lid on it.

"Okay..." Sam muttered to himself and clicked on the Cruxtruder. The program warned him that moving the device would cost build grist, so he stopped messing with it.

DC: Dean. I'm going to try and bust open this thing. Standback.  
DC: Dean?

AC: ok. wat r u goin 2 do?

DC: Just stand back.

Sam thought for a moment and then decided to open the trunks of the two Impalas. The copy lacked all of their guns and other supplies, while the limo version had them. He quickly started moving items over to the other, and Dean soon realized what was going on and moved his pie and the contents of the glove compartment over to the new Impala. Then Sam lifted up the... Limopala and dropped it onto the Cruxtruder, dislodging the cap. Out popped a glowing, pattern encrusted orb the same hue as that of Dean's favorite jacket. It floated over to Dean and began to tremble. Dean retreated to "his" laptop.

AC: sam wtf is this thing?

DC: I don't know. It seems to want something of you.

AC: oh god is it horny tell it 2 get away from me. i dont want no balls wanting anything from me.

DC: Relax it is a part of the game, apparently. Maybe.

AC: it wont shut up

DC: What do you mean?

AC: it is making this stupid noise like it is tryin 2 talk 2 me. dammit i dont wanna give it my pie. fine here u go u bitch, just shut up

Sam observed Dean throwing his pie into the glowing orb. There was a flash of light and a glowing image of the pie replaced the pattern inside the orb. It seemed to calm down a little, but was still jittering. Sam then noticed something about the Cruxtruder. There was a countdown on it. 7:47 and going.

DC: Dean. There is a countdown on your Cruxtruder. It is making me worried.

AC: countdwn? do u think it is the countdwn 2 when i entr

DC: I would hope so, but I'm guessing not. Sounds too simple. Plus it was such a random timer.

DC: Here, let me deploy the rest of this junk.

Sam deployed the totem-lathe and other gadgetry, giving the pre-punched card to Dean. Dean then took it and examined the Cruxtruder. Something was sticking out of it, a dark grayish brown cylinder. He rolled a wheel on the device and made the cylinder pop out. He picked it up. It was kind of heavy. Dean looked at the other devices, wondering what the hell this thing was for. The totem-lathe, a device with a kind of chisel on it that looked like it would spin something, was probably a good start. He inserted the cruxite and then found a slot for his pre-punched card. It carved the cruxite into a strange, but attractive shape. He took it and then went back to the computer.

AC: ok think were making progress?

DC: I guess.

AC: sammy this game sucks. wtf r we doin.

DC: I don't know. But if a bunch of kids can figure it out we can.

Dean got back out of the Impala and started wandering. He looked at the Alchemiter and set the cruxite dowel down. This machine was very big and had some kind of Devil's Trap. Was this thing magical? He'd never seen magic and technology working as one before. It was weird. As he was looking up the narrow shaft of machinery that stuck out of the side of the Alchemiter's platform, he saw a fiery ball hovering high in the sky. It was just a tiny thing now, but it looked like it was heading right for Dean. He almost fell over backing away, and then rushed to the computer.

AC: METEOR ABOUT TO HIT ME

DC: What?!

AC: SAM FIGURE THIS OUT NOW IM ABOUT TO GET ROCKED

Sam looked around the rest of his Phernalia Registry for anything else. He couldn't figure out what else they needed to do. The glowing orb seemed to be getting agitated again, and then flew off toward Mary Winchester's gravestone and hovered above it.

"What the hell does that thing want?" he muttered.

Meanwhile Dean returned to the Alchemiter. This was the last thing Crowley said they had to use. He stuck the cruxite dowel into a smaller platform sort of niched with the machinery component. Nothing happened straight away. Dean turned around to see what was up with the glowing orb, and saw it was hovering over Mary's grave.

"Hey! Tinkerpie get away from there!"

There was a flash of light behind him, and Dean turned to see that a glowing, dark gray-brown Impala was sitting on the platform. It quickly vanished and a set of glowing keys fell onto the platform.

"What the hell?" Dean muttered, staring.

Sam continued to stare at the orb hovering over Mary's grave. "You know what would be funny?" asked Lucifer, appearing behind Sam on his bed and leaning over his shoulder. "Is if you dropped that headstone into that orb. See what happens."

"Shut up," said Sam.

Lucifer grinned. "So we're back on speaking terms huh? That's good. I was getting just a little bit lonely here."

Sam tapped his finger against the touch pad. Suddenly, he was compelled to do what Lucifer said. Just what _would_ happen if he dropped Mary's headstone into that thing? If it was part of the game, wouldn't it be like honoring her memory if it was used to help them with this game? After all, the orb must be useful for something...

Sam selected Mary's grave stone and lifted it up to the orb.

Dean picked up the keys and looked over them, then saw Sam drop the headstone into the orb. "What the hell SAAAAM!"

There was a flash of light. The orb changed suddenly and now had the visage of Mary's head next to a slice of pie, floating in the middle of that glowing orb.

"Dammit, what the hell is going on here?!" Dean shouted, then looked back up at the meteor approaching, then back at the count down. Only two minutes to go.

"Crap...!" he shouted and ran for the Impala. He tried the new glowing keys in the ignition, but nothing happened. He kept trying to get the car to start, but it refused to go.

"What the FUCK!" he shouted and slammed his fist against the horn. He noticed pesterchum was blinking.

DC: Dean. Dean look at the ignition in the limo Impala.

DC: Dean dammit look at your computer.

DC: DEAN. God dammit Dean look at my computer!

DC: DEAN HOLY SHIT ANSWER ME.

Dean ran out of the car and for the Limopala. He looked up overhead, the meteor was approaching fast. The weird orb had floated back over to him. Dean stared into the ghostly face of Mary Winchester before climbing into the Limopala. The ignition was glowing the same hue as his keys. He pushed them in, turned, and gave it the gas.

There was a flash of light; the ground shook violently. A great ring of light surrounded the road and ground surrounding the Limopala. It contained all of the strange devices Sam had deployed. The light grew brighter and brighter, swallowing Dean and both cars. For Dean, the world went dark. For Sam, the screen blackened.

And Dean was somewhere else.


	3. Walk-Out

WALK-OUT

The man's name had been Dick Roman, and that was a perfectly fine name for the leader of the leviathans to have. Dick Roman did not have the time or men to go investigate the mysterious server where Skaianet was situated, but he was able to have someone assimilate a hacker and tap into it. From what he learned, there was a session of the game situated at Roman Enterprises. But he hadn't started playing yet. All he had yet done was study the game from what the young humans were writing about it on the internet. Wherever people were disappearing to, it was to a place with a connection to Earth's internet.

Earth was about to be destroyed. It was not a good place to be a leviathan. Most of the leviathans were migrating to Roman Enterprises. They had just touched down here and hadn't yet the opportunity to really do much since escaping the neutrino detector. Dick had had so many plans too. The humans were quite tasty; however, it seemed that Sburb would have a way to let the leviathans get situated. It was alchemy. Once they started up a game, but before departing, the leviathans were going to take captured humans and start captchaloguing body parts, and try to captchalogue an entire human if they can... with that, they'd be able to just alchemize humans to eat. Or at least have the meat and materials required to start up some other super-science program at a later time.

However there was something that worried Dick. Sometimes he slept as humans do, and he had dreams. But in his dreams, he heard whispers of beings that exceeded his understanding. It was a terrifying thought, that anything could be older, hungrier, or mightier than leviathans. And they were _far_ mightier. Far bigger...

The very thought of something so troubling and upsetting caused Dick to "awaken" within a violet tower. He found he could fly, and he floated out of the window of his tower and saw a city below him, and an even greater city existing on a larger body tethered to his own by a great chain. There were four other towers other than his own on this body. He floated over to one, and inside he found not a leviathan, as he'd have assumed, but a demon. And in the tower after that, he found the archangel Michael, who should be trapped in Hell.

Before he could proceed, the shock woke him up.

Dick had to change his plans and make them work fast. He was going to use Roman Enterprises as his "house", and stuff the property full with all the leviathans. He needed to have his server player connect with him and start outfitting the leviathans with sylladices so that the leviathans could produce all the food they wanted. Oh, and escape the meteor apocalypse of course. He'd be going in first. He just needed his server player. And he knew who it would be.

The demon he saw on Derse. His men were already working to bring him a spell to summon her.

His intercom sounded. "Sir, we have the spell ready. Shall we summon her?"

"Yes, hurry up," said Dick. He then stood up and brushed himself off, smiled, and then headed down to the room where the spell was being conducted. It was done when he passed through the doors, and there she was, the demon from Derse, trapped in a Devil's Trap.

"Hello, partner," he said and made a cheeky smile.

The demon that now called herself Meg glared at him. It was adorable to him. Her vessel had a very full, round face that made him hungry. But she was off-limits. "What do you want?" she asked.

"Don't be too hasty," he said. His men brought a table forward and some chairs, with half the table sticking out over the Devil's Trap. "Sit down," commanded Dick. He sat himself down as well. Meg took her seat, still glaring.

"Meg... We have business to discuss. But first let me ask you how you are doing?"

"Not so good," she said with a sigh. "Everything I believe in and fight for is crumbling down around me. I thought my purpose was now to kill the King of Hell, but now meteors are falling in Hell and destroying everything. There's not going to be an Earth or a Hell soon and there's no point in killing Crowley now." She sighed in an almost sultry way. "So, end of the world is here. I guess nothing is left to do but sit around and wait to get hit by something."

"Ohhh now don't say that," said Dick. "You're an American after all, or at least your meat-suit is. And we're go-getters aren't we?"

"You're from Purgatory," she laughed.

Dick smiled wider. "Yes. Yes I am. Okay, jokes aside. Are you aware of the fact that there is a video game capable of transporting people off this wretched, doomed rock?"

Meg stared and then smiled. "Hey, I thought you said you weren't going to tell jokes anymore..."

"Oh it is not a joke. This game exists, and humans are using it to escape this planet all over the place... including Crowley. He's going to survive all this."

Meg looked horrified. "No. No. That can't be true. That has to be a lie, or wrong or... No! That son of a bitch can't live through this!"

"The game's name is Sburb. And it has this strangest quality. It knows everyone destined to play it, and creates a whole new world for them to go and explore, complete with dream-self doppelgangers, sleeping in towers in the cities of two kingdoms destined to make war with each other. And if one can wake up there and explore, he can see all the other people he is destined to play this game with. I woke up, and I saw you there. You and I are destined to play this game as teammates."

Meg shook her head. "You're crazy. You were down in Purgatory too long honey. Besides, why would I want to work with a crazy monster like you?"

He gestured and two leviathans, big meaty fellows, crossed over and grabbed Meg and held her against the table.

"_I'm not giving you a choice_," Dick said delicately, licking his lips. "But I will sweeten this for you. Before I woke up, I saw that the archangel Michael would be playing with us. And I'm willing to bet that means Lucifer is too. Meg, my dear... you're getting a purpose again. Your father will be with you again shortly, and you'll be able to escape this place together...! But first, you have to help me."

Meg looked immensely conflicted. She growled and then sighed. "Okay, fine... fine. It might be fun. But you better not be lying to me."

"Now does this look like the face of a liar?" he asked and smiled.

* * *

Dean opened his eyes. He was in the Limopala. Orange light was pouring in from outside. He sat up and looked around. His laptop was sitting on the passenger side. He looked out the windshield and saw not the graveyard of Greenville, but an expanse of green, white, and something shining lay before him. He got out of the car and looked around.

He must be in the game. So this was Sburb?

The sky was orange and there was a large road stretching out ahead and behind him. On either side were white picket fences. Gaps occurred in the fence where additional roads crossed. Crossroads were frequent. Off-road was plentiful grass and thin, tall trees with red leaves growing large, rich apples. Off in the distance he could see mesas. Some of them had giant monuments on them. Some looked like the tables and racks from Hell, another was a cross, and another looked like a web of chains. Less morbid, he saw small seas of something shiny existing in the plains around him. If his eyes were not playing tricks on him, they looked like villages of shiny new cars.

Dean stared. This was... not what he was expecting. He was expecting something with maybe like a castle or something. He didn't know much about video games, but he assumed it would be something nerdy—castles, elves, dragons, that sort of thing.

"Dean?"

Dean gulped. That voice... it was very familiar. He turned around and saw Mary behind him. She was not standing, as she had no legs, but instead floated with a ghostly tail trailing behind her. She was holding a pie. She and the pie glowed in the same light the orb had glowed, the color of his jacket.

"Mom?" he gasped. A twist formed inside his heart.

The ghostly Mary smiled. "Hello dear. Welcome to the Medium."

Dean blinked, struggling to think of something to say. What did you say to the ghost of your mother? And why did she look so stupid? "What?" he finally choked out.

"The Medium dear. It is where you are."

"I'm in the game?" he asked.

"Hmm... well yes and no. The Medium doesn't actually exist in Sburb, that game is just the conduit. It is the gateway to the Medium, a place existing outside the time and space of your universe. It has sat here, waiting for you Dean, since time immemorial. It has waited for you Dean, because you have an important mission to accomplish here."

A flicker of annoyance coursed through him. More missions, more destiny? "Let me guess... I have to save the world again right?"

"Not quite dear," she said. "Earth is going to be destroyed by meteors no matter what. And this world you are in, your world, could be destroyed, but probably will not unless something terrible and unexpected happens."

"Then what?" he asked.

"Your journey is much nobler Dean. You spent your life trying to save people and gave up so much to do it, and to save the world. I am so proud of you for it. The scars of your effort cover your body, and cover your world, the Land of Cars and Martyrdom. But now you won't have to give just to save for some thankless job. Dean, your journey is one of creation!"

Dean rubbed his head. This wasn't making any sense. "Okay, uh exactly who are you? Because... you look just like my mom."

"I am your mother Dean," she said. "I've come back to help you. By putting my gravestone into the kernelsprite, I have been called back. Well, with pie too. I am here to help you, and I am your mother. But, I am also still a part of the kernelsprite, and I am filled with knowledge of your quest. I also know that, for you to truly grow into the man you can become, and realize the full potential of your abilities that you've demonstrated and struggled with during your entire journey back on Earth, I know that I cannot tell you everything. You will have to learn and grow on your own, but as you travel, I will be able to help you more and more."

Dean smiled and snickered. "This is nuts. Okay, I can deal with you looking like my mom and being cryptic. My whole job has been dealing with cryptic crap. But if you're my mother, tell me something only my mother would know."

She smiled. "Dean, I died when you were young, and you only saw fleeting glimpses of my life in the past."

"Yeah see? Michael wiped out your memory of that so you wouldn't remember," said Dean.

"Suppressed, dear," she said. "I remembered everything when I ascended to Heaven."

Dean shook his head. "Sorry, sprite, but I'm not buying it."

Marysprite frowned. "I'm sorry to hear that Dean. But I'm okay with this. I think you'll be able to learn for yourself in time. We have a lot to talk about! But, first, you probably need to get situated with your quest. I cannot tell you everything just yet, but I can give you the basics of what you must know."

Mary explained the nature of the kernelsprite, how it split and sent the information of its prototypings to two kingdoms, a kingdom of darkness, and a kingdom basking in light. And far from here, in the center of the Medium, was a crucible of unlimited creative potential, the wondrous world of Skaia. There, light and darkness were in a stalemate, but now that Dean was here, the true battle was beginning, and eventually darkness was going to triumph over light.

"And I'm supposed to stop that?" asked Dean, but Mary reassured Dean that his task was not to save, but to create. She told him that nothing could stop darkness from winning. Instead, Dean had a much more important quest... and in order to accomplish it, he would have to solve The Ultimate Riddle.

Dean groaned. He didn't like the sound of that. Mary finished by explaining that his quest begins quite simply. He must build the Limopala up, up, to the first of Seven Gates, whose fluctuating patterns glittered high above them.

"So... I just need Sam to build up to those gates and pass through them?" asked Dean, "And then we win the game?"

"Well it certainly sets you on your way dear," said Marysprite.

"Well alright then. One problem though, Sam said he was running out of grist. How do we get more grist?"

Mary pointed. Dean turned and saw an amber colored gang of short creatures walking towards him. They had nasty little faces. Some of them had Mary's hair. Some of them had pies on their heads.

Dean blinked. "Okay what the hell are those?"

"Imp's Dean. They are monsters of the Incipisphere, and are members of the forces of darkness. They are here to try and put an end to your quest, and to you. They have waited here for your arrival, and are now poised to attack. You are a hunter Dean, and I am afraid you have not escaped that fact by coming to the Incipisphere. But by defeating these monsters, you will obtain more grist, and with it, you will be able to build! And not just your car, you will be able to build better weapons and clothes and, well, lots of things! Good luck!"

Dean rubbed his head. "I just got here, and I'm already being attacked." He sighed and walked over to the Impala. Since Sam moved the guns in a hurry the trunk was a mess. He picked up a shotgun and loaded it with standard shells. He turned and saw six of the amber colored imps brandishing their claws at him, they were hissing and fidgeting and sneering. They were also calling him names.

These things were pathetic.

"Do I really have to kill these things?" asked Dean.

One of them scooped the pie off his head and threw it at Dean, striking the Impala and covering it in sticky, sugary slime. Dean glared at the imps and fired the shotgun just above their heads. They shrieked in fear and ran off in the direction they came.

"I'm going to go explore."

"Alright dear. Good luck!"

Dean waved at his mother sprite as he walked off toward the village of cars in the distance. The laptop and phone were left in the car, the pesterchum icon blinking furiously.

DC: Dean are you alright?

DC: Dean?

DC: Holy crap, is that Mom? Why is she a ghost?

DC: Oh that's why.

DC: So wait we can't even stop the forces of darkness? Then what is the point of this game?

DC: She isn't going to tell us is she?

DC: Well that was a lot to think about. Dean, when you get this, we need to try and figure out what she meant if we can.

DC: Oh c'mon Dean they're like half your size. You're not really going to kill those things are you?

DC: Oh good. Okay, so now you're coming over to the computer right?

DC: Dean? Dean where are you going.

DC: Dean answer your computer. I mean my computer. Dammit just get over here.

DC: Dean no dammit come back. Oh well never mind I can just text you can't I?

DC: Dean you idiot you forgot your phone.

DC: Stop! Can't you hear my messages?

DC: Dean no get back here! C'mon, feel your pockets man you don't have your phone!

DC: DEAN!

DC: Dean when you get back to the car I'm going to hit you in the head with an apple. God.

- deductiveCryptozoologist [DC] stopped pestering awesomeChevy [AC] -

* * *

Sam sighed and rubbed his head. Dean was wandering off now, and Sam didn't have enough grist to start doing anything useful.

"Oooh that's too bad, now you can't build—and things were 'looking up' for you," said Lucifer.

"Knock it off," grunted Sam. He pressed his scar, but flickered, but it took a half minute of constant pain to send him off. Sam was gasping as he finally let go.

More imps were showing up to the site of the Impala and Limopala. Sam wondered... He duplicated the Impala again and dropped the new one onto some of the imps, crushing them. Large chunks of a gusher-shaped material popped out of the imps and collected on the ground. Sam tried interacting with them, but it didn't seem possible to do so. He sighed; hopefully it would still be there when Dean got back. The weaponized Impala was bent out of shape from being dropped, but that was okay now that there were two others.

Now what should Sam be doing? There was barely any grist left at all.

Pesterchum began to blink and made its customary, hideous noise. _Dingalingaling._ Sam hated this program. He opened up the new chat.

- craigAristocrat [CA] began jeering deductiveCryptozoologist [DC] -

CA: Tell Bobby to stop being a prat and download pesterchum.

DC: What? Why?

CA: Because you blokes seem to be using that as your primary method of communication. I'd be fine with a blood goblet or at least a mobile myself. I guess it sort of makes sense to keep in touch with computers since this is a computer game. Not that you would catch me dead using pesterchum.

DC: Then what are you using?

CA: Hell-o. Programmed it myself. Has all the features, and none of the garbage. It is experimental. I have been trying to decompile extra copies of the Sburb application to try and better understand how it works. It is programmed with a frustrating language, ~ATH, but I think I got the hang of it. My chat program is compatible with spells and incantations. So if I need to cast a spell, I can just use Hell-o to do it and save myself some time. Watch.

- craigAristocrat [CA] casts the spell of gingivitis on deductiveCryptozoologist [DC] -

DC: Ow! Crowley cut that out!

CA: Never take good oral hygiene for granted my friend.

DC: I take good care of my teeth thank you, and my gums. Cut it out.

CA: Oh you're such a baby.

-craigAristocrat [CA] stopped casting on deductiveCryptozoologist [DC] -

CA: Better?

CA: Hello? Sam where did you go. I'm a busy man Sam.

DC: I was brushing my teeth and flossing.

CA: The gingivitis vanished with the spell Sam.

DC: Yeah, whatever. I like taking care of my teeth.

CA: That is adorable. You're adorable moose. Now would you kindly get Bobby to download pesterchum so I can begin pestering him.

DC: What do you want with Bobby?

CA: What do I want? What I want is what is best for you. Balthazar is a little bit busy collecting our other two players. In the meantime I need Bobby to start installing Sburb and connect with you.

DC: Wait Balthazar? Castiel killed him.

CA: Never underestimate the shenanigans of angels, my friend.

DC: I'll try not to. Just tell me how.

CA: Balthazar was never dead.

DC: What?!

CA: I tried to tell you not to underestimate shenanigans, friend. I warned you. I told you.

CA: Friend.

DC: Are you making fun of me?

CA: I am never not making fun of you moose. If I had time, I would enjoy funding a short-running children's television series parodying your adventures in self-absorbed misconceived martyrdom for the delight of children too young and stupid to fully grasp the absurdity of your exploits. Only when they came to be adults would they be able to comprehend the Shakespearean level of stupidity you repeatedly demonstrated over your life. They would feel compelled to write academic analyses of your miraculous self-centeredness and ineptitude.

DC: Alright I get the point. You can stop now.

CA: Balthazar faked his own death. Don't worry about the details though. After all you were not there when it happened. Suffice to say, Balthazar is an expert when it comes to cowardice. And he is busy. So am I. However, I need to keep in touch with you lot. So make sure Bobby downloads pesterchum and the game client and server applications.

DC: Okay, but not because you told me to. Don't go thinking you're the boss here Crowley. We're a team this time.

CA: I will be happy to treat you like an equal when you and your brother stop being lousy at everything. The only one on our team as clever as me is Bobby. All the more reason for you to get him on pesterchum; I could use someone more engaging to talk to.

DC: Crowley shut the hell up, I'm doing it already.

CA: Fair enough.

-craigAristocrat [CA] ceased jeering deductiveCryptozoologist [DC] -

Sam called Bobby. It rang several times before Bobby picked up.

"Yeah son?" he said. His voice sounded heavy.

"Getting tired Bobby?"

"I'm fine, just making a pot of coffee now. You doing okay Sam?"

"Yeah, I'm fine," Sam said.

"How is the search going for your brother?"

"Uhmmm. Yeah about that. We started playing the game."

Bobby didn't respond right away. "Oh... So we're going with Crowley's plan huh?"

"Yeah, sorry," said Sam. "But that doesn't mean we have to let him boss us around."

"If it is all the same, Sam, working with Crowley seems to be getting us screwed nine ways til' Sunday. Each and every time."

"Yeah I here you. I was thinking maybe we should just play by ourselves and cut Crowley out."

"Except that Crowley says we're all pre-destined to play this game. Assuming he's telling the truth that is."

"Yeah. Hey, did he mention to you how he's getting more players for our team?"

"No..." said Bobby suspiciously.

"He isn't telling me who they are either."

"That sounds nasty. Think he's going to fill those slots up with demons?"

"I can't imagine the demons want to go down with the ship..."

"Right... Well we'll see what comes. In the meantime, I guess if you got Dean into that game, then I need to get you in next right?"

"I'd appreciate it."

"Alright, let me get on my computer."

Bobby took the hand-held phone to his aged computer and started booting it up.

"Hey Bobby. Dean and me have been keeping in touch using a messaging program called pesterchum. Would you mind downloading that too?"

"Jeez boy you really want me to overwork my computer that badly? This thing probably won't even be able to handle playing that game. It can barely handle the 2001 Oregon Trail."

"Ouch."

"Yeah yer telling me," sighed Bobby. "I'm probably going to have to get a new computer just to run this stupid thing, but here's to hoping... Oh... strange."

"What?"

"Well... this old piece of crap can't download anything too terribly fast, but it already finished downloading both programs. Maybe the download was a bust. The files are probably corrupt."

"Can you check them?"

"What do you think I'm doing boy? Unbelievable, the thing is actually working."

"Alright, while it is installing can you get pesterchum as well? Your computer should be able to run the 3.0."

"Alright alright fine ya idjit. If we're going to talk online I'm going to hang up now."

"Alright, and Bobby? My username is deductive cryptozoologist."

"What?"

"Dedu—"

"I heard you the first time, but that's a really pretentious name."

Sam sighed and felt a flicker of annoyance. "See you Bobby." He hung up.

"And that's why we make such a good pair," said Lucifer, appearing behind Sam once more. "Between you and me, we have enough pride to save every suicidal-depressed person on the planet."

Sam pressed his scar. About six minutes later pesterchum began to flicker.

- idjitWhacker [IW] began pestering deductiveCryptozoologist [DC] -

IW: Sam?

DC: Hey Bobby.

IW: Alright so this thing is working. Good. The game is ready to connect. What do I need, your IP address?

DC: Okay Bobby, here is what you need to do.

IW: Never mind I figured it out.

Sam noticed that his client-side copy of Sburb was now asking him to hit Enter.

DC: Good job Bobby. Also, idjit whacker?

IW: You are a fool if you think your screen name is any better than mine.

DC: No, I kind of like it. It suits you.

IW: You are damn right it does. Now that I am here we're going to make this game our bitch. I may not have as much brawn as you and Dean, but I can carry my own, and I'll be damned if I'm not smart enough to figure out some stupid video game.

IW: By the way, what is Dean's screen name?

DC: awesomeChevy

IW: ...

IW: Well okay I added it. He isn't answering though.

DC: Dean walked away from both his computer and his phone.

IW: You're joking. What a dang fool he is. So tell me what is about to happen.

DC: I hit enter, and your computer screen will start showing you a live feed of the motel room I'm sitting on.

DC: Oh shit.

IW: What?

DC: I just realized. This room isn't big enough. What is going to happen if you try to expand anything into the space occupied by the other rooms.

IW: In in hell's name are you talking about?

DC: Well I'm the only one here I think. So we'll give it a try. I'm hitting enter now.

IW: Sam wait you idjit

IW: Jeez that music was loud.

IW: Okay I can see you now.

IW: There's a bunch of crap on the screen. I have no idea what any of this does.

DC: I'll walk you through it.

Sam explained the options and what they would do. Bobby practiced by moving the spare bed around a little and then expanding the doorway outward, creating a small hallway. Bobby couldn't believe this was really happening. However it was certainly an improvement to some of the other crap they had to deal with.

IW: Jeez Sam this is a wonderful thing. I can't wait to use it on my own yard. It is going to make dealing with scrap so much easier. Hell, I might actually get all my scrap work done with this.

DC: Too bad you can't be your own server client.

IW: I can't? Shoot. Then what?

DC: Well if Dean connects to you then he'll be the one messing with your house and property.

IW: Oh hell no. Dean is not going anywhere near my house with a magic cursor.

DC: I don't know what to tell you Bobby. It is that or we get another player to connect with you.

IW: Well can't you do it?

DC: But I'm already Dean's server host.

IW: Is that a problem?

DC: I think it is. I mean, how would I even open up the server application again? I think I would need another computer.

IW: Well go out and buy one. Idjit.

DC: Bobby. We might be in a hurry. Make some space for the Cruxtruder and deploy it and hit it with something heavy. I need to see how much time I have until my meteor hits.

IW: Right.

Bobby selected a space of the motel and expanded it. He zoomed out to see what happened. Apparently the rooms nearby were pushed outward too. He didn't want to think about what that did to the plumbing or electric, but so far all it did was make the entire complex slightly larger, in favor of Sam's room. He then raised the ceiling of the entire room higher and expanded the dimensions of the floor a little farther as well.

DC: Bobby be careful, we only have twenty Build Grist.

IW: No we don't I started out with 200.

DC: What? How can that be?

IW: Maybe the game knows I'm smarter than you and it gave me more grist to work with.

DC: That sounds

DC: never mind

IW: Deal with it.

Bobby deployed the Cruxtruder and hit it with the bed. Out popped a dark magenta glowing orb.

IW: Sam what is that thing? You explained everything else but I don't remember you mentioning this orb.

IW: What are you doing with your dad's journal?

Sam unpacked Dad's journal from his bag and threw it into the kernelsprite. There was a flash, and then John's face was superimposed within.

IW: I think I'm going to be sick. What did you just do?

Sam looked at the timer. He had fifteen minutes to get out of here. He sat down.

DC: Bobby. I have fifteen minutes before the meteor hits. I need the card, totem-lathe, and alchemiter. Stat.

IW: Woah hold on. I know you are in a hurry but why is John's head floating in your room.

DC: Bobby I'm in a hurry.

IW: Fine. I deploy, you start talking.

DC: Okay okay fine. It is a kernelsprite. It can bring the dead back to life, but it alters them into being part of the game.

IW: That sounds like a world of bad. Bringing the dead back to life is one thing, but if the game really brainwashes them... Sam how could you do that?

DC: Dean already did it with Mom. Plus, I think you are supposed to.

IW: You're supposed to?

DC: For the game.

Sam took the pre-punched card dropped for him and used the totem-lathe to carve out the dark magenta cruxite dowel. Bobby didn't have enough room for the Alchemiter without raising the roof again, so he put it on the roof itself and made a hole with a ladder to get up to the top. Sam stared for a moment, wondering how on earth he was going to get the dowel up the ladder when he remembered he had a back-pack. He dumped it out and put the dowel inside and ascended.

Sam looked high above. A red dot was approaching. It was still small, but he knew it would be here before long. He loaded up the Alchemiter with the carved cruxite. A moment later the mechanical arm scanned it and produced what looked like a wardrobe, which spat out a pair of shoes.

"What."

Sam stared and then looked back up at the sky. No time. He yanked off his shoes and then started putting on the new ones, tying them. Still nothing. He looked up again. The meteor would be here soon.

"Crap crap crap," Sam said and went down the ladder to get at the computer. The timer on the Cruxtruder said 6:12.

DC: Bobby it isn't working I don't know how to make these things work.

IW: Why are you asking me I don't know a damn thing about this thing! What happened with Deans?

DC: It was a set of car keys. He had to put them in the Limopala because they didn't work in the Impala.

IW: The Limopala what

IW: never mind

IW: Sounds like it has something to do with you personally. You're going to have to figure it out son. Hurry your ass up!

Sam rubbed his head. What on earth could these shoes mean? He almost considered asking Lucifer for help, but Lucifer wanted him dead even though the hallucination depended on Sam for their existence. What was he to do?

"Sammy are you really having trouble figuring this out? I thought you were the smart one."

Sam looked up. The floating head of John Winchester was looking at him. "Now don't you take this the wrong way... just do as I say. Remember all the times you walked out on us Sam? Walk out. Now!"

Sam remembered, looked at the shoes... and yes it clicked. Dean had to use the keys on the ignition. Sam has to walk out of the door. He ran for the door of the motel and threw it up, and ran out of the motel.

And into the Land of Graves and Memory.


	4. They're All Hunters

THEY'RE ALL HUNTERS

Dick Roman sat down at his desk, wiping his face clean of an ichorous substance. He didn't like the way the minions tasted, but at the very least eating them did not destroy the grist, and it was still being safely stored away into his client's grist cache. Speaking of which, he needed to get in touch with her. Dick, smart man that he was, had already fully realized his Alchemiter. He booted up his vest-pin-top, producing a hologram and a keyboard interface.

- enterprisingShark [ES] began pestering marvelousBitch [MB] -

ES: Meg? Meg are you there? :J

ES: That is alright. I can wait.

MB: what

ES: Ah there you are, partner :J

MB: stop makin that face

ES: You know I can't. A good, trustworthy smile gets you far in life Meg. :)

ES: You would know if you were not busy spending your whole existence being a huge bitch. You should work on your smile.

MB: are you jokin i smile all the time

ES: Your smile is ineffective. Let me show you how it is done. :J

ES: tinyurldotcom/8nurtvh

MB: omg your basically the worst

MB: what do you need

ES: I wanted to know how you are doing :)

MB: im fine. lucifer says hi btw

ES: Oh so you found his cage? :D

MB: yeah. gettin the nuns there was a bitch do you know how hard it is for demons to get nuns to a crater that used to be a church

ES: I would guess it would be rather simple. You demons may be second class to leviathan, but that ability to possess humans and move them around is really quite a handy asset :J

MB: you snarky bastard. yeah thats exactly what we did

ES: Really? Are you sure about that? Sounds like you had difficulties.

MB: what does it matter we got them there and talked to lucifer. he knows the plan. he's on board too. apparently he already woke up on prospit.

ES: He has? That is wonderful! :D

MB: hes excited to know that michael will be joinin us. im not. im terrified hes not goin to want to work with a bunch of monsters and kill us

ES: Well he's a man of destiny, and we are destined to play this game. I think we'll win him over. :J

ES: Or at the very least I will :J I'm quite charming and am an excellent host.

MB: lol

ES: I am. I will invite Michael over to my tower and we'll have a chat, when he wakes up.

MB: okay we have another problem.

ES: And what would that be? You know I do not like mistakes. You are not making any mistakes are you Meg? J:

MB: listen dick you can shove it up your ass because im twice as amazin as any of you

ES: You're quite enthusiastic I will give you that, but let's be realistic Meg. Your track record includes getting exorcised, letting Azazel die, letting Lucifer get caged, and failing to kill Crowley.

MB: you know what screw you because you know what dick? you spent the entire history of earth stuck locked up in maximum security purg and your criticizin me? at least I got shit done this entire time.

ES: Meg

MB: no stfu and now look at you you are in your shitty world and still bossin me around even though im the one who is goin to make this all work

ES: Chains of command are important Meg.

MB: lucifer is our chain of command once hes loose.

ES: We'll see. You said we had problems though. Please tell me what they are.

MB: lucifer says half our players are totally dead

ES: What?

MB: lucifer found azazel and the mother bitch sleepin in those towers.

ES: Oh J:

ES: That's too bad. I suppose we can always wake them up and play from there.

MB: wow i didnt think a big mouth could open his big mouth wide enough to push out somethin so idiotic

ES: Meg. Meg are you sassing me? J:

MB: you bet your sweet assimilated ass dicky. no players connecting with each other, no kernelsprites. no kernelsprites? well thats the worst we can do dick. you should know that!

ES: Hmm good point. I trust you have a plan?

MB: why dont you do some work for once

ES: I am. I and my team are working on alchemizing a herd of cattle (humans that is) to keep my people fed. I make a wonderful Void player. My hunger is insatiable and cannot be filled, but boy do I know how to eat. That's my job. Making sure we all eat.

MB: !

MB: i cant believe you think your the leader when all you want to do is sit on your ass and eat.

ES: Here is my advice. Don't worry about the other players. Their dream selves are already in the game :J

ES: We don't need to do anything else. More players would mean more kernelsprites, more mouths to feed. And every kernel we feed makes the minions of darkness tougher.

ES: So many false-leviathan mouths to feed.

MB: thats what makes the game challengin trust me we need to prototype we dont we lose. its that simple dick. its not my fault you were dumb enough to prototype edgar

ES: Actually that would be your fault :J you are the server host. Prototyping was your job.

MB: then next time wait for me to get back to the damn computer short bus i was busy killin crowleys goons theyre still huntin me. they think im responsible for him disappearin.

MB: do you know how dumb most demons are? most of them dont believe that sburb exists yet they just think clarence is doin this

ES: Who? ?:

MB: cass! the hot stuff you gave tapeworm.

ES: Ah yes him. :) It was so crowded and uncomfortable in there, but he is very warm.

MB: omg

MB: stop right there

MB: okay seems you dont need anythin

MB: i dont need you anyway i have a plan. those winchester boys bound death. ill just do that too and force him to raise everyone and help me crack open purg.

ES: Why are you going to open Purgatory.

MB: the mother are you dumb? eve is one of our players. the winchesters ganked her. shes a monster right? where is she goin to go straight back to where she came in duh. so where is she now?

ES: Purgatory? ?:

MB: no dicky

MB: in cass

MB: now listen cuz im only sayin this once. the smarter demons tried sburb. some got in, but most

MB: those with meatsuits not dead yet

MB: only the meatsuits went into the game

MB: and those that were crossroads demons lost their contracts

ES: Lost their contracts? I guess you could say they were.

ES: Voided :J :J :J

MB: omg

MB: no

MB: stop it

ES: J:

MB: cass cant take souls with him. death already wanted him to put them back. ill bind death and pull some strings and get cass to wanna put the souls back in purg and when is guard is down ill stop the door open

ES: Can you do that?

MB: babe i can do anythin i set my mind to

MB: death will raise our other players

MB: then with purg open the mother bitch can move back and forth and since the place is her home i think when she enters purg will go with her and the entire thing will enter the medium

ES: That sounds quite the ambitious plan.

MB: hey purg entering the medium we'll have an army of monsters

MB: thanks to you an army of leviathan shale imps and levi crude ogres want to munch our asses

MB: we need an army of monsters to fight an army of monsters

MB: see i told you im a marvelous bitch :]

ES: But what about the other prototypings?

MB: dicky we dont have to prototype a ancient ass monster to make the kernels pop right

MB: we can throw in any old junk

ES: Well it sounds like you have everything under control. Or for your sakes you better. :J

ES: Winning this game is important. And I hate losing. But let's be honest. The leviathan don't need any of you. My race are my players now. We're taking this bull by the horns whether you join the party or not.

MB: your totally goin to get us killed arent you

MB: dick this game is about teamwork the game wouldnt be set up with all this cryptic shit if it wasnt designed to bite you in the ass when you dont follow the rules

ES: The leviathan make the rules. :J

ES: We're go-getters.

MB: dumbass

- marvelousBitch [MB] blocked enterprisingShark [ES] -

ES: Wait Meg

ES: Meg what did you just do? It says you blocked me.

ES: Meg? Meg you get back here. You can't "block" me you're my server player what if I

ES: Actually no I don't need you. Maybe I'll just run my server program and become my own server how do you like that :)

ES: Can't connect with client what is this? Fine I'll just download it again from the skaianet website.

ES: Wait it won't let me? Why not? One download per user? What is this?

ES: They can't treat an apocalyptic game like free samples!

ES: Meg get back here and stop being my server player so I can be my own server player!

ES: MEG

- enterprisingShark [ES] changed his mood to RANCHOROUS D:{ -

* * *

Sam was still blinded by the light after it had dissipated. He was running, but soon felt a sharp pain in his legs as he hit something hard and fell over it. He groaned in pain as he tried to get his bearings. He sat up to see what he had fallen over.

It was a gravestone marker. He stared at it. The name was illegible. Sam got to his feet. The motel, or at least a large portion of it, was sitting in front of him. He turned and saw, sprawling out ahead of him in sharp, steep hills and valleys, an expansive graveyard, covered in gray mist. The sky was a morbid, depressing shade of green.

"Where am I..." he said uneasily. He turned and saw the kernelsprite shaking. The orb burst apart into two glowing balls with an image of John's face in it. One orb was bright white, and floated through the ceiling and up into the sky. The other was dark, and floated through the floor. What remained was a ghostly figure of John, except without legs.

"Hey son," he said.

Sam stared. It had been strange seeing Dean talking to their mother... but at the same time he never met Mary, and it had been through the computer, desensitizing the experience. He hadn't been prepared for the feeling this was giving him now.

"Dad..." he croaked.

The sprite floated over slowly and rested in front of Sam. Sam skirted around the grave. John held out his arms and smiled. Sam, despite looking at a magenta version of his father as a cartoony ghost, accepted the hug and held tight. He smelled like a mix of ozone, leather, cheap shampoo and sweat. Asides from the ozone, he smelled like John. The strong tight embrace was familiar. It felt like John.

The two parted and John smiled. "Good to see you."

He sudden punched Sam in the shoulder.

"Ow!"

"That's for starting the apocalypse," said Johnsprite.

Sam felt a wave of guilt, averting his eyes. "Sorry... No, that isn't good enough. You asked Dean to stop me, at all costs."

"Yeah, I did," he said reproachfully, but then patted Sam on the shoulders. "But this is for stopping the apocalypse. You did good son. Sam, I would never have guessed you had it in you. I guess it is pretty appropriate."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Sam asked.

John grunted. "Ugh, it is this stupid game you landed yourself in. I know a lot about this stupid place and how it works. And about you. I mean what you're supposed to do here and what you can become. But the game is compelling me to not tell you too much until you are ready, and it is especially bad because I can see why. You really will grow better, and stronger, if I don't tell you too much too fast."

"Oh... yeah... Well it's okay. I'm smart enough, I think, to figure this game out. And Bobby will be joining us, and he'll be a big help."

Johnsprite smiled. "Bobby... heheheh. That will be almost like cheating if he's coming here. But between you and me I can tell you one thing. Sam, it is easy to underestimate you. I underestimated you. But you have a lot of potential. The game knows this. How you spent your adventures with Dean after your girlfriend was killed—the game knows about them and knows your strengths and weaknesses. Your task and your true potential are going to play to both your strengths and weaknesses. But I know you can do it."

Sam was silent. There were a lot of things he wanted to say to John, had wanted to ever since he last saw his spirit outside the Devil's Gate. Finally he settled on a teary-eyed, "It is good to see you Dad."

Johnsprite nodded. "Yeah... so... are you up to speed already or do I need to start spinning you some damn coy story about Ultimate Riddles yet?"

"No I think I'm good," said Sam. "I picked it up second hand from Dean and..." Sam hesitated. Something important just occurred to him. "Dad... Dean... his sprite."

Johnsprite blinked. "What? What did Dean do?"

"Mary... he prototyped his kernel with her grave marker, and Mary is now a sprite like you."

John had a hollow look on his face. He blinked in disbelief. "I... Mary?"

Sam nodded.

John looked skyward. "Bobby! Bobby you start building up to the First Gate, now! Sam, start hunting some imps, we need all the grist we can—oh shit."

"What?"

Johnsprite circled around, rubbing his chin. "You said... You said that Mary was prototyped?"

"Yeah."

"And I was prototyped."

"Yeah?"

"And Mary used to be a hunter before I met her."

"Wait, how'd you find out about that?"

There was the sound of loud cackles. John and Sam turned to see a group of imps approaching out of the mists.

"Get in the motel, now Sam now!" shouted Johnsprite.

"Wait why?"

"Just do as I say!" Johnsprite shouted.

Sam frowned and headed for the door. Behind him, Lucifer was walking with his hands in his pockets.

"It is already starting eh? You know I am looking forward to seeing you fight with your daddy."

* * *

Dean Winchester was almost to the village of cars when an imp appeared from the branches of a nearby apple tree. It cackled at him and flicked him off.

Dean held up his gun. "Do you really wanna do this?"

Dean pointed the gun at the imp, but the imp quickly grabbed the gun and wrenched it from Dean's hands, then slammed it against his gut. Dean coughed, backing away.

"Oh that is it you are getting it," Dean said and threw a punch, but the imp ducked. Another swing from Dean, and the imp grabbed his arm and pulled in close, hitting its head against his crotch. It grabbed his shirt, pulled him down, and headbutted him in the face, shoving him backward and causing him to fall onto the ground.

Holy crap this thing can fight! Dean thought with alarm. He tried to get to his feet but the imp was on his chest now, whacking him with its tiny fists. It didn't hurt too bad, but the thing was feisty.

Dean took better note of how the thing had Mary's hair.

No.

Dean threw the thing off of him using the difference in their sizes. He got to his feet, rubbed some blood off his nose with his thumb, and held up his fists, braced for the fight.

The imp flashed white, and suddenly had Mary's hair and his father's beard.

"What?" Dean gasped, but rushed in punching. The imp ducked out of the way and counter punched... but the exact movement was very familiar.

Dean remembered the exact way the imp dodged from practicing boxing with his father as a kid.

The imps... they had both his parent's fighting moves.

A crazy fight later, ending with Dean retrieving his firearm (a reoccurring theme of his life) and blasting the imps head off, Dean sat up and collected the grist. He wasn't sure how he "collected" it, all he did was walk over to it, but Dean wasn't going to let himself get too hung up on gaming abstractions. He had another problem. Another imp showed up while he had been fighting the other one. This one had pie on its head. It threw a chunk of pie at Dean, who ducked out of the way and then ran at the monster, kicking it and sending it flying. This one was not nearly as good at fighting.

"Yeah! You're just a pie imp!" Dean shouted. "You can't handle this!"

Dean caught something out of the corner of his eye. Four imps with mixed features of his parents and that of a piece of pie were coming at him. Fighting both his parents combined four times over? Oh hell no.

* * *

"I appreciate being back from the dead Sam, but really what were you thinking?"

Johnsprite was holding the door closed, pressing up against it as a horde of imps were trying to bust through. Sam had pushed the mattresses against the window and was pressing against them.

"Sorry I didn't know this would happen!" shouted Sam.

"That's no excuse!" Johnsprite shouted. "Okay, maybe you didn't know what would happen, but you could have guessed! Where the hell is Bobby he should be helping us!"

"What can he possibly do?"

"Well he can build us some more defenses for one," said John, grunting as the imps slammed something against the door. Seemed like they found a battering ram of some sort.

"Okay Sam you're a decent hunter and all but what are you going to do against an army of monsters, an army of them, and they're ALL HUNTERS?"

"I'll think of something," said Sam.

"I suppose this would be a bad time to spoil for you... there are giant monsters too," said John.

Sam felt weak. "Yeah, please don't say that."


End file.
